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BOOKS BY PENN SHIRLEY. 


BOY DONALD SERIES. 

Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents. 
Donald* 

^oy Donald and His Chum* 

^oy H)onald and His Hero* (60 cents, net.') 

LITTLE MISS WEEZY SERIES. 

Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents. 

Little cMiss Weezy* 

Little cMiss Weezy's brother* 

Little cMiss Weezy^s Sister* 

THE SILVER GATE SERIES. 

Illustrated. Price per volume, 75 cents. 

Young 3/last er Kirke* 

The cMerry Fi<ve* 

The Happy Six* 

COMPLETE CATALOGUES FREE. 


LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS, BOSTON. 



BOY DONALD SERIES 


BOY DONALD 

AND HIS HERO 


BY 


PENN SHIRLEY 


AUTHOR OF “LITTLE MISS WEEZY,’ 



LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S 


SISTER,” “LITTLE MISS WEEZY’S BROTHER,” “YOUNG 


MASTER KIRKE,” “THE MERRY FIVE,’ 


■THE 


HAPPY SIX,” “BOY DONALD,” “ 
DONALD AND HIS CHUM.” 


BOY 


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ILL USTRA TED B Y BER THA G. DA VIDSON 


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BOSTON 


LEE AND SHEPARD 


1902 


THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS, 
Copies Received 


JUN, t1 1902 



COPVWQHT ENTRY 

CLASS XXa No. 

^ 0 i> 2> 

COPY B. 


Copyright, 1902, by Lee and Shepard 
P ublished August, 1902 


A// rights reserved 


Boy Donald and His Hero 


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C. 


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riorttioob Press 

^ 4 C 

J. S. Cushing & Co.— Berwick & Smith 
Norwood, Mass. U. S. A. 



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Contents 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Who was Donald^s Hero? ... 7 

II. Mr. Amabel's Colt 10 

III. The Hero's Trials Begin .... 22 

IV. Driving a Span 32 

V. The Bright Little Pigs .... 47 

VI. Smoke in the Air 54 

VH. Casa de Rosas 63 

VII I. The Fire-break 71 

IX. Fighting Fire . . .' . . .80 

X. Two Brave Lads 91 

XL “The Bead Road" 102 

XH. The Monkey- faced Owl . . . .114 

XIH. In an Oak Tree 123 

XIV. Eagle's Crest 131 

XV. The Barbecue 139 

XVI. Boy Donald and His Hero . . . 149 







LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


The frantic colt galloped snorting and plunging 
down the street (Page 12) . . . Frontispiece 

PAGE 

“ O please let me and Julie go Mamma” . . .22 

“ Look, see the fire go creep, creep ” . . . .74 

He gathered the trembling child in his arms and 
bore him out through the smoky kitchen . . 86 





BOY DONALD 


CHAPTER I 

WHO WAS DONALD^S HERO? 

If you remember happy, golden-haired Boy 
Donald, you do not need to be told that he was 
the younger son of Mr, and Mrs. Rowe of Sil- 
ver Gate City, California, or that he had a well- 
grown sister Molly, and a smaller sister Louise, 
better known as “ little Miss Weezy.” You 
also must remember Julius Fay, Boy Donald’s 
chum, who lived with his father and mother, 
his brother George and sister Brenda in a large 
brown house not far from Mr. Rowe’s Queen 
Anne cottage. 

Boy Donald called Julius his “ make-believe 
twin ” because their birthdays were on the very 


7 


8 


BOY DONALD 


same day of the very same year. But though 
he loved his little twin dearly he never set him 
up for a hero, Oh no, not by any means ! Boy 
Donald’s hero was three times as old as timid 
little Julius, and more than three times as wise. 
To be quite frank with you, he was none other 
than Kirke Rowe, Donald’s dear elder brother. 

Kirke came by his title of hero in this way : 
Molly discovered him in the stable one day 
mending a top for Donald, and said to him, 
“ Kirke, you’re always doing something for 
that child. No wonder he adores you.” 

“ Adores me, Molly ! What do you mean ? 

“ O, he thinks there’s nobody quite so nice 
as you are. I overheard him this morning 
boasting to Captain Bradstreet, about you. 
Among other things he said that his brother 
Kirke was as brave as Jack the Giant-Killer! ” 
Don is a droll little monkey,” chuckled 
Kirke, well pleased with the young braggart’s 
devotion. ‘‘ He tags me ’round like a kitten.” 


WHO WAS DONALD’S HERO? 


9 


** I should say he does,” said Molly, push- 
ing in a hairpin about to slip from her auburn 
braid. “ When you are with us he doesn’t look 
at Weezy or me, he sees just you. Sir Knight. 
O, there’s no denying that you are Boy Don- 
ald’s Hero!’’ 

“ Then it’s a pity he hadn’t a better one,” 
was Kirke’s quick retort. 

And as he walked off with the mended top 
in his hand, he added lightly. 

Nobody but Don would ever think of mak- 
ing a hero out of me/ ” 

Whether this were true or false the high- 
sounding name clung to Kirke, and henceforth 
he was recognized in the family as “ Boy Don- 
ald’s Hero.” 

Did he deserve the valiant title? But no, 
do not answer this question at present. There 
will be time enough after you have grown 
better acquainted with the lad by reading the 
chapters that are to follow. 


CHAPTER II 


MR. AMABEL''S COLT 

Juliuses father owned a beautiful country 
seat, called Casa de Rosas. This was the 
winter home for the family, but last winter 
George Fay had been ill and none of them had 
been to Casa de Rosas ranch except Mr. Fay 
himself and Julius, just for a week. Kirke and 
Donald Rowe and Paul Bradstreet had gone 
with them; and that was the time when “the 
twins ” got lost in a canon, and Kirke thought 
himself to blame and felt very unhappy about 
it. 

Now spring had arrived, and save a few 
sorry days in which they had been ill with 
mumps Boy Donald and Julius had played to- 
gether for the whole happy season. 


10 


MR. AMABEL'S COLT 


II 


One pleasant Saturday afternoon as they 
were flying their new toy balloons from the 
porch of little Miss Weezy’s play-house, called 
“ Weezy Villa,’’ they saw a man driving down 
the street in a light buckboard, drawn by a 
lively gray colt. The man was the overseer of 
.Mr. Fay’s bee-ranch, Casa de Rosas; and now 
that the barley-harvest was over he had come 
to town to make some purchases. The boys 
recognized him at once and joyfully exclaimed, 

‘‘ Mr. Amabel’s come! Mr. Amabel’s come! ” 
Of course I’ve come, youngsters. I should 
’a’ known that if you hadn’t said a word,” re- 
torted the jolly overseer, pulling in the 
reins. 

He was a small, wiry individual, with abun- 
dant red hair that stood on end like a fox’s fur 
in winter. 

Folks all well? ” he went on. 

Then without waiting for an answer, ‘Ms 
your pa at home, Julie? ’’ 


12 


BOY DONALD 


“ Yes, my papa is at home, Mr. Amabel. 
See what my papa gave me! said little Julius, 
and ran to show his red balloon to the new- 
comer. 

“ See what my papa gave me, Mr. Amabel ! ” 
echoed Donald, pattering after Julius with his 
own balloon of yellow. 

The airy playthings, attached to long strings 
held by the children, danced hither and thither, 
like huge, bright-colored soapbubbles, and 
made Mr. Amabel’s colt prick up his ears in 
alarm. 

“ Don, Julie, come back with those things. 
You’re scaring the horse!” shouted Kirke, 
starting up from the veranda step where he sat 
reading the daily newspaper. 

He was a second too late. Even as he spoke 
the frantic colt reared, overturned the buck- 
board and galloped snorting and plunging 
down the street. 

For a few moments all was confusion. Boy 


MR. AMABEUS COLT 


13 


Donald waved his arms and shouted; Julius 
fluttered his balloon and cried; Mr. Amabel 
picked himself out of the gutter and raced after 
the horse; and Kirke, dropped the Journal and 
raced after Mr. Amabel. Being a famous 
runner the lad passed the unlucky ranchman 
at the first crossing, and after a hot pursuit 
captured the colt and led him back in triumph. 

“ He goes on three legs, Mr. Amabel. Tm 
afraid he has sprained his left fore foot,” said 
Kirke. 

He acts that way. I guess we’ve both got 
hurt some,” responded the ranchman, pressing 
one hand to his back which still ached from the 
fall. “ I hated to drive the skittish creetur 
down to the city; but you see I felt obleeged to 
leave the old horse at home for Manuel.” 

Manuel was the handsome Spanish boy who 
formerly had carried about newspapers in Sil- 
ver Gate City. He was now working on Mr. 
Fay^s ranch, helping Mr. Amabel. 


14 


BOY DONALD 


'' But what does Manuel want of the horse 
there at Casa de Rosas ? ” 

“ O, Manuel will be off to Annuncio, to be 
gone a week. You see my folks have got com- 
pany from that way, and I promised to let 
Manuel take 'em home next Thursday." 

By my folks " Mr. Amabel meant his wife. 
He habitually spoke of Mrs. Amabel in the 
plural number as “my folks." There were no 
children in the household. 

“ Yes, I thought in case I shouldn’t get home 
by Thursday and Manuel had to start off before 
I saw him he’d better travel with the old horse. 
I couldn’t trust him with this young one," con- 
tinued Mr. Amabel, twitching at the colt’s 
bridle. “ Come along, pony. No more of your 
capers. I’m going to take you round to Squire 
Fay’s stable now, and see what can be done for 
your ankle." 

A great many things were done for the dis- 
abled ankle during the next two days; but 


MR. AMABEL'S COLT 15 

though skillfully treated it did not improve; 
the colt might have to remain in Mr. Fay’s 
stable for two or three weeks. 

Meanwhile Mr. Amabel having finished his 
errands was impatient to return to Casa de 
Rosas. 

I can’t fool round here, Squire, waiting 
till that creetur is fit to travel,” he said to Mr. 
Fay the Monday evening after the accident. 

My folks need me at home.” 

“ But the barley is in. Can’t Manuel man- 
age things ? ” inquired Mr. Fay, who had come 
out to the stable with Kirke Rowe and Mr. 
Amabel to see how the colt was faring. 

“ Yes, Manuel could manage well enough if 
he was going to be at the ranch, but he ain’t,” 
returned the perplexed overseer, running his 
fingers through his hair which stood up too 
straight already. “ As I was telling Master 
Kirke, Manuel will be off bright and early 
Thursday morning to take my folk’s relations 


i6 


BOY DONALD 


to Annuncio. I lotted on getting back that 
very afternoon at the furthest/’ 

“ But Manuel won’t be gone long?” 

A matter of a week. He wanted to visit 
with his mother a spell. She’s in the laundry 
at Annuncio.” 

O yes, I’ve heard she was working there.” 

“ My folks was always kind o’ timid about 
staying alone,” continued Mr. Amabel, balanc- 
ing himself first on his heels, and then on his 
toes. And here I can’t go home and I can’t 
send word either. Why, Squire, seems if 1 
should fly ! ’’ 

“ The poor man looks like it,” mused Kirke, 
turning to stroke the colt in order to conceal 
a smile. 

You see. Squire, ’tisn’t as if your ranch 
was on the stage line,” Mr. Amabel went on, 
“ or within gun-shot of a railroad.” 

‘‘Very true, Mr. Amabel. There’s no sta- 
tion nearer than Eagle’s Crest.” 


MR. AMABELS COLT 17 

^‘Just SO, Squire. And s^posin' I should 
take the train here and get off at Eagle's Crest 
I should have to foot it home a long thirty 
miles.” 

“ So you would.” Mr. Fay knit his brows. 

I could do it easy enough empty-handed, 
Squire, but how could I make out to tote this 
honey-separator and all my other parcels ? ” 

“We are going to Eagle’s Crest next week 
— all our family and the Bradstreets too,” said 
Kirke. “ I wish it was tomorrow, Mr. Ama- 
bel. Then I could drive you across from there 
to Casa de Rosas and be glad to.” 

Mr. Amabel shook his head with a jerk. All 
his motions were quick like those of a squirrel. 

“I’m obleeged to you. Master Kirke; but 
you couldn’t hire a team at Eagle’s Crest, not if 
you was to suffer.” 

“ Couldn’t hire a team at Eagle’s Crest ? 
Why not, Mr. Amabel ? ” 

“ Guess you haven’t ever put up at the Crest, 


i8 


BOY DONALD 


have you, Master Kirke ? ” responded the 
ranchman drily. 

No, I’ve never seen the place, Mr. Ama- 
bel. Is it so very small ? ” 

“ Well, there’s the tavern, big as all out doors. 
No other houses to speak of. No horses neither, 
exceptin’ the landlord’s, and he keeps those a 
purpose to cart round his boarders with.” 

“ What day do you say you and the Brad- 
streets go to Eagle’s Crest, Kirke?” asked 
Mr. Fay, who had been busily thinking. 

“ A week from next Thursday.” 

Ah ? I shall go to Denver and be back 
by that time,’’ said Mr. Fay. 

And after Mr. Amabel had left the stable he 
added, 

“ How would you and Paul Bradstreet like 
to go ahead of the rest of the party? You 
might take my span tomorrow and drive Mr. 
Amabel back to Casa de Rosas and stay there 
a few days.” 


MR. AMABELS COLT 19 

O Mr. Fay, I should like it — we should 
both like it of all things, — but — 

“My coachman wants a vacation; and Fve 
just thought I may as well let him have one 
while Fm off to Denver to leave George with 
my aunt.'' 

“ Yes, but Mr. Fay—" 

“Don't you think you lads could spend a 
week at the ranch very agreeably, Kirke? 
You've not forgotten the excellent fishing?" 

“ Indeed I haven't, Mr. Fay.'^ 

“ Well, if the plan pleases you, Kirke, I 
could go by train with your family and the 
Bradstreets a week from Thursday, and you 
and Paul could meet me at Eagle's Crest with 
the span." 

“ But the Amabels, Mr. Fay. I was wonder- 
ing if they'd like to have Paul and me so long 
at the ranch ? " 

“ Is that all your objection? Why, nothing 
would please them better. They're lonesome 


20 


BOY DONALD 


during the summer. They rarely see anybody 
from the outside world.’’ 

‘'Mr. Amabel would drive, I suppose?” 
asked Kirke after a pause. 

“Not with my consent!” Mr. Fay spoke 
with a good deal of energy. “ I was coming 
to that presently, Kirke. Mr. Amabel is a capi- 
tal farmer. He takes excellent care of the bees 
and of the ranch in general; but he can’t con- 
trol a horse much better than my Julius can. 
Look at the way he let that colt get the upper 
hand of him ! ” 

“ It did seem sort of queer.” 

“ Decidedly so. Yes, if you boys go with 
my span I shall have Mr. Amabel fully under- 
stand that I expect you to do the driving.” 

Kirke’s brown eyes glowed with gratified 
pride. 

“ You and Paul have always been used to 
horses, and I can trust you with mine, because 
you don’t easily lose your heads. You are 


MR. AMABEVS COLT 


21 


getting to be a reliable boy, Kirke, and Paul 
is as steady as a mill.” 

“ Getting to be a reliable boy ! ” Alas, 
Kirke's proud smile was swept away by a hot 
tide of blushes. He knew only too well what 
Mr. Fay was thinking of. It must be of that 
other trip to Casa de Rosas, when he, Kirke 
Rowe, had not been reliable in taking care of 
the little boys. 

“ Catch me letting those kids slip through 
my fingers another time ! ” the lad said to him- 
self with a frown. Catch me again shirking 
duty! If Mr. Fay’ll give me the chance I’ll 
show him that I’m a fellow to be depended 
upon.’’ 

The chance came, and that right speedily. As 
Kirke hastened away to consult with his father 
and Captain Bradstreet in regard to the pro- 
posed expedition, little did he dream of what 
the future held in store for him. 


CHAPTER III 


THE hero's trials BEGIN 

Mr. and Mrs. Rowe and Captain Bradstreet 
liked the plan suggested by Mr. Fay; but Boy 
Donald and Julius thought that it might be 
improved. 

When the little boys saw the canvas-cov- 
ered excursion wagon backed out of the stable 
on Tuesday morning, and learned that the older 
lads were to drive Mr. Amabel home to Casa 
de Rosas, they begged to join the party. 

O please let me and Julie go, mamma," 
entreated Boy Donald, dancing toward his 
mother as she entered Mr. Fay's yard. 

Mrs. Rowe carried on her arm a traveling- 
rug that she wished to put into the wagon for 


22 



O please let me and Julie go, mamma. 




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THE HERO’S TRIALS BEGIN 

Kirke’s comfort at night. She was asking her- 
self if the rug would be warm enough, and did 
not observe Donald till he cried out again, 

Please let us go, mamma. We won’t be 
a bit of trouble.” 

Please let Donny go, Mrs. Woe,” begged 
Julius, at Donald’s heels. My mamma says 
if you’ll let Donny go she’ll let me go ! ” 

Let you go to the ranch again, Julie? Why, 
haven’t you and Donald been there once, only 
a little while ago ? 

Ye-es; but my mamma says I’m not very 
well, Mrs. Woe.” Little Julius drooped his 
eyelids plaintively. “ My mamma says I must 
stay outdoors in the fleshy air.” 

’Cause his mamma wants him to get fat, 
mamma,” put in breathless Boy Donald. O 
may we go to Casy de Rosy, Julie and me? 
Julie’s been orful sick, you know. He’s had 
the mumps, Julie has.” 

‘‘ Yes, I have, Mrs. Woe. I’ve had lots and 


24 


BOY DONALD 


lots of mumps. Choked me too. Made my 
froat just as sore!’’ 

Poor little dear, I remember that you were 
quite ill last month,” said Mrs. Rowe, stooping 
to kiss the pale, eager child. I remember 
too what a sweet, patient little boy you were.” 

Julius was confused by this unexpected 
praise, and talked on very fast. 

Harry Lane gave me those mumps, that’s 
what my mamma said, Mrs. Woe. Harry’d got 
froo with those mumps, and then he gave ’em 
to me.” 

When, Julie? What for?” demanded Boy 
Donald, but without taking his eyes from his 
mother who had moved away to speak to Mr. 
Amabel. 

Would she let them go to Casa de Rosas? 
This was the question in which his little lord- 
ship was most deeply interested that morning. 

“ O, I can’t ’member, Donny. Harry gave 
’em to me ’thout me asking him. I didn’t want 


THE HERO’S TRIALS BEGIN 25 

'em.’’ Julie also was watching Mrs. Rowe, and 
added in an excited whisper, “ S’pose your 
mamma’ll say yes, Donny ? ” 

“ She’s seeing ’bout it. I know mamma’s 
seeing ’bout it, Julie,” giggled Boy Donald; 
and ran as fast as he could to overtake his 
mother. His little chum followed in season 
to hear Mrs. Rowe say to Mr. Amabel, 

'' Would it be demanding too much, Mr. 
Amabel, to ask you to take Julius and my little 
boy home with you ? Do you think Mrs. Ama- 
bel would mind boarding them for a few 
days? ” 

King alive. No! She’d be tickled to have 
’em at the ranch,” responded the farmer as he 
buckled the girth of the nigh horse. 

Donald and Julie grinned like two little 
pussy cats, and hugging each other sidled along 
to watch Kirke helping with the harnessing. 

“We shouldn’t wish to overburden Mrs. 
Amabel,” pursued Mrs. Rowe courteously. “If 


26 


BOY DONALD 


she will give the children something to eat — 
We all know what a famous cook Mrs. Amabel 
is — I am sure Kirke will look after them and 
keep them out of her way.’’ 

‘‘The little tots won’t worry my folks one 
mite, Mrs. Rowe. Don’t be concerned about 
that,” replied Mr. Amabel, hurrying to the 
stable for a halter. 

“ Goody, Goody ! we’re going to Casy de 
Rosy,” cried Donald and Julie clapping their 
hands. 

Mrs. Rowe turned to Kirke and said with a 
smile, 

“ You would be willing to take charge of 
the children, wouldn’t you, my dear ? 

“ Willing, mamma ! ” Kirke spoke in an 
agitated voice. “ Would you be willing to 
trust me with them again?” 

“ Most certainly I would, my son.” 

“ Really, mamma ? I shouldn’t think you 


THE HERO'S TRIALS BEGIN 


27 


would ! Fve wanted all the time to have them 
go with us, only I hadn’t the courage to say 
it, because — because — ” 

Because of your losing them in the canon 
a while ago? Yes, I understand, Kirke. But 
you’ll never be so careless again. You’ve 
learned a lesson from that experience.’^ 

“ It’s a pity if I haven’t, mamma ! ” 

“ Yes, you’ll not let the little boys wander 
off a second time. I’m confident. I do not 
hesitate to trust them with you, neither does 
Mrs. Fay.” 

O thank you, mamma, thank you for say- 
ing it,” returned Kirke, fastening a buckle with 
an unsteady hand. “ I was afraid one while 
that you and papa and the Fays would never 
have any confidence in me again. And I tell 
you, mamma, it hurts a fellow to feel that 
people think he’s no good.” 

“ You’re good, Kirke, yes, you are, you’re 


28 


BOY DONALD 


the goodest boy there is/’ struck in Boy Don- 
ald, to the great displeasure of his jealous little 
twin. 

“No, I’m not good in the least; but bless 
my little Donny-kin all the same,” ejaculated 
Kirke, patting his little brother on the head. 
“ Look out, sir. Don’t hug my knees so hard 
or you won’t leave enough of me to drive you 
to Casa de Rosas.” 

Boy Donald hopped up and down shrieking 
with laughter, as if Kirke had said the funniest 
thing in the world ; and presently began to sing, 

“We’re going to Casy de Rosy 
We’re going to Casy de Ro-o-sy.” 

“ If papa approves, darling, we haven’t asked 
papa’s consent yet, you know.” remarked Mrs. 
Rowe gently. “Of course you can’t go unless 
your papa is willing.” 

“’Course not, mamma,” said Boy Donald; 
but he did not cease smiling. He had not lived 
over five years in the Rowe family without 


THE HERO’S TRIALS BEGIN 29 

learning that when mamma was willing that 
the children should do a thing then papa was 
willing, and when papa was willing mamma 
was willing too. 

So it was in the happiest of moods that the 
child frisked home hand in hand with Julius, 
and popped his sunny head in at the screen- 
porch in search of the Chinese cook. 

“ Hop Kee! Hop Kee! he called shrilly, 
holding the door ajar. 

“ Ko yeen si, (go inside) ” cried Hop Kee, 
hastening in from the back yard, where 
he had been hanging out his dish towels 
to dry. 

He was a tidy Chinaman; it annoyed him 
to have flies let into his kitchen. When he had 
shuffled across the threshold in his droll pointed 
shoes and carefully closed the door, he said to 
the children. 

Chin chin,” which they knew meant 


Good day.” 


30 


BOY DONALD 


'' O Hop Kee, we’re going to Mr. Fay’s 
ranch if papa ’proves,” panted Boy Donald. 

“What you speakee? ” exclaimed the China- 
man greatly surprised. He had been in Amer- 
ica long enough to pick up considerable Eng- 
lish. 

“ We’re going to the ranch where we went 
the other time, you know. Hop Kee.” 

“ Allee?’ 

“ No, only but just me and Kirke and Julie. 
And O Hop Kee, won’t you give us a luncheon, 
please? Some of those nice cakes you made, 
those big cookies with raisins in ? ” 

“ Give us six, please,” interrupted Julius, who 
had a “ sweet tooth.” 

“Sik cakee?” 

Hop Kee began to count on his fingers in 
Chinese, 

“ Wun, tu, te-la, faw, fie, sik. Yah,” he 
nodded. “ I give you sik velly big cakee.” 

And he walked toward the pantry, the end 


THE HERO'S TRIALS BEGIH 31 

of his long cue whipping the calves of his legs 
at every step. 

“ O, thank you, Hop Kee, thank you ever 
so much,” cried the delighted little boys fol- 
lowing and dancing about the “ celestial ” as 
he dropped the cakes into a paper bag. 

“ I like you. Hop Kee,” added Boy Donald, 
resting his plump red cheek for a moment 
against the cook’s clean blue frock, “ I like 
you orfly. I don’t care if your face is yellow.” 

The Chinaman grinned as if he had received 
a compliment. But as his little visitors scam- 
pered off with the bag he looked grave and 
muttered to himself, 

“ What for takee lile boys that side? ” He 
was afraid that the children might be lost on 
this journey as they had been lost on the pre- 
vious one. How could he or any one else 
predict what was really about to happen ? 


CHAPTER IV 


DRIVING A SPAN 

A HALF hour later the great canvas-covered 
wagon rumbled out of Mr. Fay's stable-yard 
and halted before Mr. Rowe's house to take 
in Kirke and Boy Donald. All the others of 
the family were on the veranda, and every one 
seemed to be speaking at the same time. 

“ Remember, Kirke, to hold a tight rein in 
going down the hills," Mr. Rowe was saying. 

‘‘Don't fail to meet us all at Eagle’s Crest, 
Kirke, a week from next Thursday," cried 
Molly; while little Miss Weezy said to Boy 
Donald with a kiss, 

“ You won’t forget to bring some acorns, 
Donny dear, will you ? " 

Mrs. Rowe's last words to Kirke were these. 


22 


DRIVING A SPAN 


33 


You know you are to be responsible for 
the little boys, my son. Your father and I en- 
trust them to your care.^’ 

Ah, little did Mr. and Mrs. Rowe or the 
Fays imagine on that bright Tuesday morning 
how heavy this responsibility would prove ! As 
little did Kirke imagine it, when he answered 
cheerily, 

“All right; mamma. Don^t worry. Fll 
bring the kids to Eagle’s Crest right side up 
to meet you ! ” 

At a bound he had mounted to the driver’s 
seat beside Julius; and his mother thought with 
secret pride how agile he was; how handsome 
too, with his clear brown complexion and fine 
dark eyes, now sparkling with the excitement 
of the moment. 

“ Sit wiv me, Donny,” cried Julius, hitching 
along to leave room for his little chum be- 
tween himself and Kirke. 

Donald was no sooner seated than Paul Brad- 


34 


BOY DONALD 


street rushed, gripsack in hand, from his home 
over the way, exclaiming, 

I hope I haven’t kept you all waiting.” 

No, you’re on time, but you must take a 
back seat,” said Mr. Amabel, with a sportive 
glance at the complacent little boys in front. 

That’s all right. I’d as lief sit in one place 
as another, only give me room enough for my 
legs,” returned Paul, laughing; and ducking 
his head to avoid hitting the roof of the wagon, 
he climbed up beside Mr. Amabel. 

The awkward, overgrown lad was invari- 
ably kind and obliging. Pauline declared that 
this was one reason why everybody liked him. 
— You remember Pauline Bradstreet, do you 
not, Paul’s twin-sister, who was as dark as her 
brother was light, and who playfully insisted 
that she and Paul ought to be called “ the 
black and white twins ? ” 

The lively girl stood now at her chamber 
window across the street, fluttering her pocket 


DRIVING A SPAN 


35 


handkerchief and shouting in a merry voice, 

Good-by, my better half ! ” — this to Paul. 
“ Good-by, Kirke. Have a lovely time and tell 
me everything you do. We’ll meet at Eagle’s 
Crest.” 

‘‘We will, Polly. Good-by! Good-by all 
till a week from Thursday,” cried Kirke, as he 
gathered up the reins. 

Away dashed the horses, away lumbered the 
wagon ; and our five travelers were at last fairly 
off for Casa de Rosas. They expected to camp 
two nights by the roadside and arrive at the 
ranch early in the afternoon of the following 
Thursday. 

“ We’re going to get out when we come to 
the snaggery, Donny,” whispered Julius, nudg- 
ing his little friend, “ I heard Mr. Amabel say 
so. 

“ What’s the snaggery, Julie ? ” whispered 
Boy Donald in return. 

“ O, it’s the place where they keep the snags.” 


36 


BOY DONALD 


Snags? What are snag's?’^ 

Donald’s face looked as blank as a rubber 
ball. 

‘‘ Why, don’t you know, Donny Woe? They 
are cold things what go creep, creep. They’re 
alive. Folks eat ’em.” 

“ Eat ’em alive? O Julie Fay, what folks! ” 
I didn’t say folks ate ’em alive. I never 
said it, Donny Woe! They cook ’em ’fore they 
eat ’em. The snaggery man told Mr. Amabel, 
I heard him.” 

Cook ’em, Julie, cook ’em in a dish? ” 

'' I don’t know, the snaggery man didn’t say 
dish. He only but just said he boiled the snags 
in milk.” 

“ How funny, Julie ! ” 

Boy Donald was very curious to see these 
strange objects; and when they had driven 
along a little further asked anxiously, 

“ Where’s the snaggery, Kirke ? Are we 
’most to the snaggery ? ” 


DRIVING A SPAN 


37 


' The Snaggery ' Don ? ” 

Kirke looked puzzled; then added with a 
smile, 

“ O, I guess you mean the S nailery. How 
is it, Mr. Amabel? Are we pretty near that 
snailery ? 

“ Quite near. It's on the ranch over yonder 
where you see the derrick." 

On dismounting at the ranch and entering 
the gate, the travelers observed, beside the path 
leading to the house, a broad, unsightly pool. 

“ Where does all the water come from to 
fill this pool, Mr. Amabel ? " asked Kirke in 
surprise. 

“From that well there," answered the 
farmer, and pointed to the mouth of an iron 
tube a little below the surface of the pool. This 
tube was only nine inches in diameter. 

“ It's a teenty bit of a well,’' said Boy Don- 
ald. 

“ Yes, it was started for an oil well," ex- 


38 


BOY DONALD 


plained Mr. Amabel. “ Mr. Dulac bored for 
oil and struck it; but it didn’t flow fast enough 
to suit him; so, fool-like, he kept on boring till 
he’d cut clean through the rock and come to 
water. There’s the trouble.” 

“ What a pity ! ” said Paul. '' How far does 
the tube go down into the earth ? ” 

“ A quarter of a mile.” 

Why, Mr. Amabel ! ” 

‘‘ Yes, a quarter of a mile. And the well 
ain’t worth a sixpence after all; for don’t you 
see, the oil spoils the water, and the water 
spoils the oil.” 

“ Whew ! ” sniffed Donald, “ The oil smells 
horrid. How did it get in ? ” 

“ Some folks is of the opinion that the oil 
comes from fish,” replied Mr. Amabel with an 
important air. 

Why-ee ! ” BOy Donald wondered how 
fish could put oil into a well. 

“ There are folks that pretend to say the 


DRIVING A SPAN 


39 


Pacific ocean used to be under here, and some 
way or ’nother it dried up, and then the fish 
died and turned into oil.” 

“ Ho, I think that’s a silly story, Mr. Ama- 
bel,” exclaimed Donald bluntly. 

Nevertheless, Don, a great many wise peo- 
ple believe it is true,” said Kirke, walking on 
with his little brother toward the house. 

‘‘ Do you believe it is true, Kirke ? ” 

Yes, Don. I think it may be true.” 

Do you ? O, then I guess it is,” said Don- 
ald, his doubts vanishing on the instant. 

And Paul afterward overheard him confid- 
ing to Julius that Kirke knew ever and ever 
so much, almost as much as the minister. 

‘‘ S'’pose that’s the snailery man ? ’’ asked 
Donald presently, as a dark-skinned little 
Frenchman advanced from the doorway to 
meet them. 

Mr. Amabel replied for Kirke. 

“ Yes, that is Mr. Dulac,” and went for- 


40 


BOY DONALD 


ward to shake hands with the gentleman, who 
greeted them all politely, but in broken Eng- 
lish, which the little folks could hardly under- 
stand. 

“Doesn’t he talk funny, Julie?” whispered 
Donald, frisking off with his little comrade at 
the heels of the amusing stranger. “ I s’pect 
he’s kind o’ crazy.’’ 

Mr. Dulac was proud to show the snails to 
his visitors, and smiled a great deal, and made 
many motions with his hands as he led the way 
to his snailery in an old windmill. 

From his manner the children thought that 
they were about to behold something very 
wonderful ; and when he ushered them into an 
eight-sided room with nothing in it to be seen 
they were bitterly disappointed. 

All around the room, excepting on the side 
through which they had come in, ran a narrow 
platform having seven little trap-doors. The 


DRIVING A SPAN 


41 


little boys did not notice these doors till Mr. 
Dulac raised one of them and beckoned to Don- 
ald to look inside, saying, 

Les void!” (Here they are!) 

“ I don’t see anything only just dirt,” said 
Donald, peering into the gloomy space. 

And some cabbage leaves,” added Julius, 
peering in his turn. 

“ O yes, and some brown things crawling 
over the cabbage leaves ! ” cried Boy Donald, 
now seeing more clearly. “ Sticky brown 
things, with shells on.” 

“ Those are the snails their own selves, don’t 
you s’pect, Donny?” commented wise little 
Julius. “ Folks eat ’em, I told you.” 

“ I don’t believe they do, Julie. I don’t be- 
lieve anybody eats such things, ’thout Indians 
do!” 

‘‘ Hush, Don, you’ll hurt Mr. Dulac’s feel- 
ings,” cautioned Kirke in his little brother’s 


42 


BOY DONALD 


ear. Mr. Dulac eats these snails himself and 
thinks they are very nice. He sells them too 
for other people to eat.” 

Donald made no reply. He did not speak 
another word till they were both in the wagon 
again and had driven some distance. Then he 
said with a deep sigh “ ’Fore I’d eat sna-ils! I 
think Mr. Dulac is a very queer man ! ” 

The travelers halted for the night by the 
roadside under some fine live oaks bordering 
a spring of clear water. 

“If you’ll make the camp-fire, boys, I’ll stake 
out the horses,” said Mr. Amabel, descending 
rather clumsily from the wagon. “ Beats all 
how riding cramps me since I got hurt! I’m 
stiffer’n a jumpin’-jack.” 

“ Maybe a bright warm blaze will limber you 
a little, Mr. Amabel,” returned Paul, extending 
a helping hand. “ It^s amazing how cold the 
evenings are ! ” 

And with a benevolent smile the boyish blond 


DRIVING A SPAN 


43 


pant walked off to collect materials for the 
camp-fire. 

We’d better build it in front of that rock, 
Paul ; don’t you think so ? ” said Kirke, hurry- 
ing after, and calling attention to a huge bowl- 
der within easy distance. 

'‘To be sure, it’s a fireplace ready-made for 
us. Don, will you and Julie gather a few 
leaves and sticks to start the fire ? ” 

“ May I kindle the fire, Paul ? ” bargained 
Boy Donald, skipping close behind, with his 
never-absent twin, “ May I blaze the match my 
own self? ” 

Paul nodded indulgently; and after the little 
boys had heaped a small pile of brush before the 
rock, gave the child the match he had asked 
for. 

Donald scratched the point of this along the 
sole of his upturned boot, as he had often seen 
men do. He scratched it again and again, but 
could not succeed in lighting it. 


44 


BOY DONALD 


‘‘You don’t know how to strike a match, 
Donny, let me strike it myself,’^ cried Julius, 
his fingers fairly itching for the task. 

“ Yes, I do know how, Julie! ” retorted Don- 
ald, breaking the match in trying to prove his 
knowledge. “ I do know how to strike it. 
But look a’ there, this match isn’t good. There 
isn’t any whetstone on it.” 

“ Brimstone you mean, don’t you, Don ? ” 
grinned Paul, drawing a second match from 
their small supply and handing it to the little 
fireman. “ Here, see if there’s any brimstone 
on this one. But don’t break it, it’s precious.” 

“Is it? I didn’t s’pose brimstone was a 
precious stone,” said Donald innocently. Only 
the other day his mother had told him the names • 
of some of the precious stones. Was brim- 
stone one of them? Donald could not remem- 
ber; he was too much engrossed in rubbing the 
second match. 

This lighted with a flash and a fizz entirely 


DRIVING A SPAN 


45 


satisfactory to him; and he lost no time in 
setting the gathered leaves and fagots ablaze. 

Then the large boys made haste to drive two 
crotched sticks into the ground, one on either 
side of the fire, and to lay a green pole across 
from one to the other. They called this “ hang- 
ing the crane.” 

Next they took from the wagon an iron 
kettle, filled it with water from the spring and 
hung it on the pole over the flames. 

Pretty soon the water boiled and Kirke 
made chocolate, prepared with condensed milk, 
and treated all the company except Mr. Ama- 
bel, who presently appeared flourishing a snub- 
nosed teapot, which he had brought along ex- 
pressly for his own use. ‘‘ You couldn’t pour 
any chocolate down his throat,” he said. “ He’d 
as soon swallow thin mud! Tea was what he 
liked ; and he liked it strong enough to bear up 
a cat.” 

When Mr. Amabel talked in this way the 


46 BOY DONALD 

children could not understand him much better 
than they had understood the Frenchman; but 
they laughed because the older boys did. 

The campers had a nice supper of cold 
chicken, buttered tea biscuits, frosted cake and 
fruit, not to mention Hop Kee’s addition to 
the luncheon. 

After they had eaten they sat a long time 
chatting before the fire. Mr. Amabel was in 
a genial mood and entertained the small boys 
with stories of his childhood in Vermont. Boy 
Donald was particularly interested in his ac- 
count of two little truant pigs. 

But that must wait for the next chapter. 


CHAPTER V 


THE BRIGHT LITTLE PIGS 

Them little pigs was just five weeks old 
when pa bought 'em,” said Mr. Amabel, rak- 
ing his coarse red hair with his fingers. “ Yes, 
just five weeks old to a day. They was raised 
across the river from our farm. We lived then 
on the Onion.” 

“ On the Onion river., Don,’’ explained 
Kirke, noting his little brother’s perplexity. 

“ As I was saying,” went on Mr. Amabel, 
raking his hair again, “ Those pigs was raised 
at Mr. Hunt’s farm across the river from ours ; 
but in order to get ’em home pa had to travel 
something like four miles. He had to drive 
two miles up the river to the ferry, then cross 
the ferry and drive two miles down. 


47 


48 


BOY DONALD 


“Well, he took me along that day, — I was 
a little shaver, about as big as one of you little 
boys, — and he carried an old meal-bag to fetch 
back the pigs in. I can seem to see that sty 
of Hunt’s now. There was eight little pigs in 
it. Six pure white, and two pretty well spotted 
with black. I teased pa to buy the speckledy 
ones; and just to please me he took ’em — just 
them two. 

“ King alive ! How those little fellers did 
squeal when pa tied ’em into that bag! You’d 
’a’ thought from their talk that pa was scalp- 
ing of ’em! 

“ Well, we brought ’em home under the 
wagon seat, covered up, head and ears; and 
they never seen another streak of daylight till 
pa untied the bag and let ’em out in our pen. 
This must ha’ been somwhers toward sundown, 
for I remember pa milked before long, and 
poured some warm milk into the pigs’ trough 
for their supper. 


THE BRIGHT LITTLE PIGS 49 

They seemed all snug and comfortable 
when he left ’em that night; but when he went 
out to feed 'em next morning where was they? 
The little scamps wa’n't there ! ” 

“ Why-ee ! " breathed Donald, who had not 
missed a single word of the story. 

“ No, the little scamps wasn't to be seen," 
repeated Mr. Amabel. “ They had been and 
dug a hole, if you'll believe it, under the pig- 
sty fence and made off, root and branch ! " 
‘‘Did they run away? " inquired Donald. 

“I should say they did! Pa had all hands 
out hunting for 'em the bigger part of the day; 
but it wasn’t any use, — they was clean gone. 

“ So, come sunrise, he hitched up Old Sukey 
again and drove 'way back to the Hunt place 
to buy another couple of pigs." 

“ And did he buy them ? " asked Boy Don- 
ald, as Mr. Amabel paused to replenish the fire. 

“ No, he didn't. And that's where the joke 
comes in I " 


50 


BOY DONALD 


The ranchman raked together the brands 
and heaped dry branches upon them before he 
continued. 

“ Pa didn’t have to buy any more pigs, be- 
cause he found his own, the little spotted ones.” 

‘‘ O how nice ! ” interrupted Boy Donald, 
clutching his small twin’s elbow. “ Did you 
hear that Julie? Mr. Amabeks papa found 
his two little pigs.” 

“ Yes, ’course I heard,” replied Julie rub- 
bing his arm. “ Where were they, Mr. Ama- 
bel?” 

“ There at Mr. Hunt’s in the pen they’d been 
taken from the day before ! ” 

Why-ee ! How did they get there ? ” asked 
Donald. 

“No wonder you ask! Well, they swum 
across the river, those knowin’ little creeters, 
and made straight for their own sty.” 

“ They did ? Who saw ^em ? ” 

“ Mr. Hunt saw ’em with his own eyes. He 


THE BRIGHT LITTLE PIGS 5 * 

happened to be on the riverbank when they 
scrambled out of the water. Pretty tuckered 
they were, Hunt said, and glad enough to be 
shut up in the pen, with the other little pork- 
ers.” 

What a plucky little couple ! ” said Kirke. 
“ Didn’t it seem almost too bad, Mr. Amabel, 
to carry them away again from their brothers 
and sisters ? ” 

“ That’s so. But it didn’t worry me any 
then. You never saw a prouder little chap than 
I was when father’n I drove off home the sec- 
ond time with those pigs under the seat. 

Marm was standin’ on the back door step 
as we turned into the yard; and I remember 
I clapped my hands and hollered out, 'We’ve 
found ’em, marm, we’ve found the pigs!’ 

" But they say pride goes before a fall. You 
may depend pa and I felt considerable flat when 
marm said, 

“ Then why didn’t -you fetch the pigs home 


52 


BOY DONALD 


with you ? ” and we looked and saw they 
wasn’t in the wagon! 

“ Upon that pa whipped up and galloped the 
horse back about a mile, till going down Coo- 
per’s Hill we came to them pigs cuddled down 
in the bag in the middle of the road ! 

“ ’Twas a pesky steep hill, and they’d slid 
out, I s’pose goin’ up.” 

Did it kill ’em? ” asked Donald. 

‘'Kill ’em? No, their fat saved ’em. When 
pa dumped them back into our sty they skipped 
round as lively as grass’pers.” 

“ That’s a nice story, Mr. Amabel,” said 
Donald, drawing a long breath. “ Please tell 
another one.” 

“ Not to-night,” responded the ranchman 
yawning. “ Don’t you see that Julius is fast 
asleep in Paul’s lap? He can’t keep awake in 
the dark the way my folks’ monkey-faced owl 
can!” 


THE BRIGHT LITTLE PIGS 53 

“ O, I wish you’d tell me about the owl, Mr. 
Amabel ! ” 

But Mr. Amabel shook his head. 

“ You can see the owl when we get to Casa 
de Rosas, young man, and that^ll be better 
than hearing about it,” he said, rising rather 
stiffly from the ground. “Now I move that 
we all ‘ turn in.’ ” 

In making this motion the ranchman was 
wiser than he knew; for surely the campers 
would need a long night’s rest to prepare them 
for the unforeseen events of the morrow. 


CHAPTER VI 


SMOKE IN THE AIR 

By the morning of the third day the little 
boys had become fatigued and impatient to 
reach the end of their journey. When Kirke 
drove, Julius would take short naps with his 
head resting on Paul’s shoulder; and when 
Paul drove, Boy Donald would snuggle against 
Kirke and remain for minutes without speak- 
ing. Once in the very act of listening to Mr. 
Amabel’s account of catching the monkey- 
faced owl and shutting it in a cage Donald him- 
self went nodding off to dreamland. 

It was afternoon and the child had slept 
some time, when Kirke touched him under the 
chin and cried cheerily, “ Open your peepers, 
you little lazy-bones! We are going up the 


54 


SMOKE IN THE AIR 


55 


long hill now. From the top of it if you look 
sharp you can see the ranch.” 

“ Donny, Donny, wake up! ” shouted Julius, 
facing about from the driver’s seat where he 
had been asleep himself not so very long be- 
fore. “ Stop a-snbring I Don’t you know 
we’re most to my papa’s de Rosy house? ” 
Donald struggled to a sitting posture, his 
eyelids fluttering like a humming-bird’s wings. 

“ I wasn’t a-snoring, Julie! ” he cried, deeply 
wounded. “If I was a-snoring, I guess I 
should ’a’ heard it, so now ! ” 

“ O Donny Woe, you was a-snoring. Yes, 
you was ! You was a-snoring like an effelant ! ” 
Julius had never heard an elephant snore, 
but fancied that it must make a loud noise — as 
to tell the truth Donald had done. 

“ Come, come, boykins, stop that foolish- 
ness,” interrupted Kirke hastily. “ Here we 
are at the top of the hill; and the one that sees 
Casa de Rosas first shall have a nickel.” 


56 


BOY DONALD 


I can’t see a thing,” responded Donald, 
after one quick glance at the hazy landscape. 

I ean’t too,” said Julius, on tiptoe upon the 
front seat with his arm around Paul’s neck in 
order to keep himself from falling. “ There 
isn’t any sun, and it’s all black and blue over 
in the canon.” 

“ So it is, Julie, just as if a cloud had fell 
down.” 

Kirke and Paul smiled at this suggestion of 
Donald’s ; but Mr. Amabel’s face was very seri- 
ous. It had worn an anxious look all that day. 

There’s too much smoke over yonder to 
suit me,” he said sniffing the air. “ Smells to 
me’s if there was a big fire up back in the 
canon.’’ 

‘M’ve smelled smoke a long while,” re- 
marked Paul, half smothered by the embrace of 
Julius. I don’t see any blaze though. The 
fire must be a good way off.” 

Yes, it’s a good ways off now,” muttered 


SMOKE IN THE AIR 


57 


the farmer into his beard; “ but it can run two- 
forty when it has, a high wind like this a-push- 
ing of it” 

“ I hadn’t thought of it before ; but the wind 
does blow harder than it did at noon,” said 
Kirke, and glanced tenderly down upon his 
little brother, Don, stand up, please, and have 
on your jacket.” 

“ Who made that fire, Kirke, do you s^pose ? ” 
asked Donald, wriggling into the garment. “ I 
guess the man’s cooking a pretty big dinner.” 

‘‘ It was some idiot of a hunter that set the 
fire most likely,” scolded Mr. Amabel. Some 
o’ those fellows haven’t sprawl enough to get 
out of their own way. When they break camp 
they won’t even take the trouble to put out 
their fires.” 

“ That’s mean of them,” said Kirke, “ espe- 
cially now that everything is so dry.” 

‘‘ Yes, everything is as dry as tinder. The 
underbrush will burn like so much tow; and 


58 BOY DONALD 

after a fire once gets to spreading who’s a-goin’ 
to stop it ? ” 

My bruvver can stop it, Mr. Amabel,” cried 
Donald, on his feet again in an instant. ‘‘ My 
bruvver Kirke can put out fires. I’ve seen him 
my own self ! ’’ 

Easy, Don, easy! You’re giving me more 
soft soap than belongs to me,” protested Kirke; 
but when the others were not observing he 
could not help hugging his faithful little wor- 
shipper. If he had not been touched by the 
child’s ardent devotion to himself, Kirke must 
have been a hard-hearted, ungrateful creature. 

Though the dust was constantly blown 
about them like a thick veil, Donald had never 
ceased to watch the horizon for the first glimpse 
of the ranch. 

Presently he started from Kirke’s arms with 
the eager cry, 

'' There it is ! I can see it I I can see Casa 
de Rosy I ” 


SMOKE IN THE AIR 


59 


And with his chubby, tanned forefinger he 
pointed to the dim outlines of a house in the 
distance. 

“ Bravo, Don, youVe earned the nickel,” 
said Kirke handing him a bright five cent piece. 

Then turning to Julius, 

Do you feel very bad, Julius because this 
money goes to Don and not to you.” 

“ No, course I don’t,” answered Julius con- 
tentedly. 

‘‘ That’s a nice boy, Julius, a tip top boy,” 
struck in Mr. Amabel in a hearty tone. 

“ ’Cause Donny’ll give me half, Mr. Amabel. 
Donny always gives me half of things.” 

“ ’Cause Julie and I are twins, you know,” 
explained Donald. 

You and Julius are twins, Don ? How long 
since?” queried the farmer, rather mystified 
by this announcement. He had never happened 
to hear of the little boys’ original notion that 
since they were born on the self-same day of 


6o 


BOY DONALD 


the self-same year, therefore they must be 
twins. 

Donald was astonished at the man’s ig- 
norance, and hastened to inform him. 

“ Why, Julie and me, we’ve been twins, Mr. 
Amabel, ever since we were made! We didn’t 
find it out at first though.” 

“ No, we didn’t find it out, Mr. Amabel, till 
we were half after four,” interrupted listening 
Julius. 

“ Ah, you don’t tell me so ! ” Mr. Amabel’s 
china-blue eyes twinkled as he lifted his hat 
and ran his fingers through his hair. And 
how old are you now, Julius? ” 

’Most a quarter after five , — bof of us ! 
replied Julius. 

He was resting his chin on the back of the 
front seat, and as he spoke the motion of the 
wagon shook his head up and down. 

‘‘ We’re 'most a quarter after five, Donny 


SMOKE IN THE AIR 


6i 


and me are, — bof of us, you know. Only 
Donny is the biggest. I can’t grow fast like 
Donny does, mamma says, ’cause I’ve been 
awful sick ! ’’ 

“ I’ve been awful sick, too, Mr. Amabel,” 
threw in Donald quickly. “ I’ve had the 
mumps.” 

Ho, Donny, you didn’t have only but just 
half the mumps. You didn’t have the mumps 
only but just on one side.” 

I don’t care, Julie, I — ” 

And I had ’em on bof sides, Donny Woe. 
You may ask my mamma! ” 

“ Well, I had the measles on both sides, any- 
how. On my stomach, too,” retorted Boy Don- 
ald with increasing excitement. “And you 
never had a nieasle, Julie Fay, you know you 
never did. You never had a single measle.” 

“ S’posing I didn’t, Donny Woe! ” 

Julie’s lip quivered. “ Didn’t I have the 


62 


BOV DONALD 


chicken pox last winter all over me, — inside of 
me, too? And you never had a single chick- 
en — ” 

Whoa! ’’ called out Paul at this critical mo- 
ment. Whoa, I say 1 ” 

He was speaking to the horses, but his voice 
interrupted the children’s quarrel in the very 
flick of time. 

Fortunately the quarrel, — a very slight one, 
— was never resumed; for when Julius and 
Donald saw the wagon stop at the gate opening 
upon the ranch and knew that they had come 
unawares to the end of their journey they 
squeezed each other’s hands in great delight 
and shouted together, 

“Goody! Goody! We’re here! WeVe 
here at Casy de Rosy ! ” 


CHAPTER VII 


CASA DE ROSAS 

Casa de Rosas was a large one-story house, 
surrounded by verandas like an Indian bunga- 
low. The verandas were shaded by climbing 
rose-bushes which sprawled over the roof of the 
building and even clutched at the chimneys. 

At one side of the house stood a barn and a 
windmill; and farther on hundreds and hun- 
dreds of bee-hives. At the other side was the 
grassy canon, now hazy with smoke from the 
distant fire. Between the house and the canon 
extended a broad field of barley stubble. 

As our travelers drove toward the dwelling 

Mr. Amabel looked anxiously at the field. 

63 


64 


BOY DONALD 


“If the fire should catch in that dry stubble 
it would run along to the cottage as quick as a 
cat can lick her eye, boys ! But we’ll hope for 
the best.” 

“ Mrs. Amabel sees us,” exclaimed Kirke. 
“ She’s coming to meet us.” 

At sight of the portly, smiling woman 
emerging from the doorway with a whisk 
broom in her hand, the ranchman’s long face 
broadened, and he remarked demurely to the 
wagon-load in general, 

“ It’s no easy matter to steal a march on my 
folks. They’re sure to be spying out for me.” 

“ Well, I am glad to see you, every blessed 
one of you ! ” was Mrs. Amabel’s cordial greet- 
ing. “ Manuel started off at sunrise to take 
home my nephew and his wife; and I’ve been 
so lonesome since they went away that I haven’t 
known what to do with myself.” 

“ I hope we shan’t make you too much 
trouble, Mrs. Amabel,’^ said Kirke politely, 


CASA DE ROSAS 65 

after she had been told the reason of their com- 
ing. 

By this time the five new-comers had 
alighted upon the wide piazza. 

I like a houseful of people. It has been 
dull here lately, with only husband and Manuel 
Carillo to speak to,” replied Mrs. Amabel with 
an arch glance at Mr. Amabel. 

“ I’ve felt sort of creepy today, Rufus, about 
this smoke,” she continued, brushing the back 
of Mr. Amabel’s coat, and then wheeling him 
around to brush the front. “ I’ve thought what 
should I do if the fire should spread as far as 
our place?” 

Nonsense, Susan ! Don’t you worry a 
mite,” responded her husband briskly. “ I 
guess the wind’ll change before long.’^ 

Seems to me it has gone down a little,” said 
Kirke to whom Mrs. Amabel came next with 
her broom. “The air doesn’t look quite so 
full of cobwebs.” 


66 


BOY DONALD 


The word “ cobwebs ” reminded Boy Don- 
ald to ask Mrs. Amabel if she had saved a cer- 
tain spider’s nest for himself and Julius. 

What spider’s nest, dear ? ” 

“ Why, that spider-that-lives-in-the-ground’s 
nest, Mrs. Amabel. O, don’t you ’member it? 
Mr. Amabel gave it to us, and we forgot to 
carry it home.” 

“No, I don’t remember it, Donny.” 

Kirke having walked away well brushed, 
Mrs. Amabel was now sweeping clouds of dust 
from her little questioner’s jacket. “ What 
does the spider’s nest look like ? ” 

“ Why, it’s a little round hole, as deep as 
this, Mrs. Amabel. See ! ” Donald stretched 
his short arms as far apart as they would go. 
“ Mr. Amabel dug it up for us with a spade.” 

“ It’s an ever-so-long hole, Mrs. Amabel,” 
put in Julius. “ Has a cunning little speck of 
a cover to it, a cover you can lift and wiggle- 
waggle this way.” The child twitched the flap 


CASA DE ROSAS 


67 


of his pocket up and down with his finger. 
“ Only when the spider is at home he hangs on 
to the cover, papa says, and keeps it shut.’' 

At this point Mr. Amabel recollected having 
stored a trap-door spider’s nest in the windmill. 
He promised to find it for the children after 
dinner, but said he doubted if Kirke would be 
willing to let Donald take it to Silver Gate City, 
because the nest was so large. 

“ O, my Kirke’ll be willing, Mr. Amabel, I 
know he’ll be willing,” exclaimed Boy Donald. 

Kirke’s most always willing to let me do 
things, except — ” The honest little fellow 
dropped his eyes, — “ ’cept he isn’t willing to 
let me have tantrums/' 

“ I want to know ! That’s very clever of 
him,” said Mr. Amabel, running his fingers 
through his hair. 

And, with an amused glance at his wife, he 
followed Paul Bradstreet to the barn, where 
Kirke already was taking out the horses. 


68 


BOY DONALD 


The little boys lingered behind to visit the 
great monkey-faced owl, captured by Mr. Ama- 
bel one sunny morning in an old sycamore tree. 
They found the strange, droll bird in a wooden 
cage on the back porch, winking its round, 
staring eyes in the wisest manner. 

The truth was that it was nearly blind by 
daylight; but the children did not know this, 
and became quite vexed because they could not 
make the owl look at them. 

“ His face is funny, but I think he’s awful 
stupid,” remarked Julius to Donny, when they 
were sent presently to call Mr. Amabel and the 
boys to dinner. 

So do I,” said Boy Donald. “ I thought 
he’d say ‘ Too whit, too whit, too whoo,’ but 
he doesn’t say a word. He isn’t half as bright 
as Molly’s parrot.” 

Dinner was served in the kitchen, as the 
dining-room was set apart for the use of the 


CASA DE ROSAS 69 

Fays, and never occupied except while that 
family were living at the ranch. 

“My folks are always ahead of time,” Mr. 
Amabel observed sportively to Paul as they sat 
down to the table. “ They haven't a lazy bone 
in 'em.” 

“ I don't know where I could pick up a lazy 
bone, Rufus,” retorted his wife with a gratified 
smile. “ I couldn't borrow one of you, that's 
certain.” 

“ I've got a crasy bone, Mr. Amabel,” vol- 
unteered Boy Donald, crooking his little elbow, 
“ my mamma says it’s crazy.” 

“ Is that so, my little man, I advise you to 
look out for it,” smiled Mr. Amabel, beginning 
to carve the baked lamb. 

After dinner was over he showed his visitors 
the emptv trap-door spider's nest. It looked on 
the outside like any other patch of dried mud; 
but inside of the mud the deft spider had bored 


70 


BOY DONALD. 


a very deep tunnel, as largfe around as Mr. 
Amabel’s finger. This tunnel, lined with a soft 
gray web, like woven silk, formed the spider’s 
nest where it laid its eggs. 

Julius was instructing the others how the lid 
of this nest would go “ flap, flap ” on its silken 
hinges, when they were all startled by a sudden 
gust of wind which shook the windmill. 

Mr. Amabel’s ruddy countenance paled to a 
mottled pink, and he remarked uneasily to 
Kirke and Paul, 

I don’t like the sound of that, boys ! If 
the wind is coming up again from that quarter 
it’ll beat the fire toward us. I must make a 
fire-break between the house and the canon 
and be quick about it.”* 


CHAPTER VIII 


THE FIRE-BREAK 

“Can''t we help you, Mr. Amabel ?’' cried 
Kirke, always ready for action. 

‘‘ Yes, I shall be glad of your help. I want 
to plough a strip of land next the house and an- 
other strip next the canon, and burn the stubble 
between ’em, before this fire gets along.” 

The last sentence found Mr. Amabel and the 
boys half way to the barn. 

“ Kirke, you and Paul can hitch up the mules 
while Pm dragging out the plough.” 

“ Certainly, Mr. Amabel,” responded Kirke, 
springing to do his host’s bidding. 

Ho my brother Kirke isn’t scared of mules, 
Julie,” boasted Boy Donald, pleasantly excited 
by what he had seen and heard. He’d just as 
71 


72 


BOY DONALD 


lief have mules kick if they want to, my brother 
Kirke would.” 

The little champion was wildly happy. To 
be making ready for a runaway fire seemed 
to him the most delightful thing in the world. 

It was quite otherwise with Julius. “ My 
bruvver George isn’t scared of mules either, — 
not much scared, I mean,’^ he began bravely, 
but ended, with a loud sob. “ O Donny, do 
you s’pect that fire’ll come and burn us all up ? 
Do you truly, Donny ? ” 

“ No indeedy, Julie. Kirke won’t let it. 
Don’t you see they’re beginning to stop it?” 

While the little boys were chattering the 
mules had been harnessed to the plough and 
taken to the corner of the garden near the house. 

“ Drive straight ahead to the orchard, 
Kirke,” ordered Mr. Amabel who held the 
plough himself. 

Kirke slapped the reins, and the mules 
plodded off through the barley stubble, leaving 


THE FIRE-BREAK 


73 


a brown furrow behind them. Having reached 
the orchard fence they turned about and plodded 
backward, leaving a second furrow close be- 
side the first. Thus they kept on going to and 
fro, till they had connected the garden and 
orchard by a broad belt of ploughed ground. 

“ There, that’ll do for this piece,” panted Mr. 
Amabel, and leaned against the plough-handle 
to rest. It had not been easy to cut through 
the tough dry sod, and he was glad to refresh 
himself with a glass of the lemonade brought 
out at this moment by watchful Mrs. Amabel. 

“ You look sick, Rufus,’^ she said anxiously 
as she took his empty tumbler. 

‘‘ My back hurts again,” he admitted with 
some reluctance; “ but I guess I can manage to 
plough that other strip.” 

‘‘ I think I can do it, Mr. Amabel. Please 
let me try,” cried Paul, who had been chiefly 
engaged during the last hour in preventing the 
children from being run over. 


74 


BOY DONALD 


I’m afraid you ain’t strong enough,” ob- 
jected Mr. Amabel. 

But in the end Paul had his way, and guided 
several rather crooked furrows along the edge 
of the barley next the canon. 

The great field of stubble, having now been 
surrounded by ploughed land, could be burned 
over without much danger of the flames ex- 
tending further. 

No sooner had the mules been led away 
to the stable than Mr. Amabel lighted a match 
and set fire to the short, crisp straw at the 
lower end of the field. 

Look, see the fire go creep, creep,” cried 
Boy Donald, hopping up and down in high 
glee, as the blaze, fanned by the breeze from 
the canon, advanced toward the upper end of 
the enclosed space. 

Before it could reach this, Mr. Amabel and 
his helpers were waiting near the house with 
shovels and brooms, with which to beat out the 



“ Look, see the fire go creep, creep.” 




THE FIRE-BREAK 


75 


flame in case it should leap the belt of ploughed 
ground. 

But the flame did not cross the upturned sod. 
It stayed in the field, and danced itself to death 
among the stalks of barley. 

When the glowing plain had blackened to a 
cinder, Mr. Amabel said with a sigh of relief, 

“ We’ve done a good job today, boys. We 
couldn’t ask for a better fire-break than this 
we’ve made. Paul, you helped me out well at 
the plough.^’ 

“ My brother Kirke drove the mules, Mr. 
Amabel. Didn’t my brother Kirke drive 
nice ? ” Boy Donald hastened to say. 

“ To be sure, my little man. Kirke drove 
like a major. But come, it’s getting late. Let's 
go in and see what my folks have got for 
supper.” 

It was an excellent supper, and notwith- 
standing his aching back Mr. Amabel ate with 
enjoyment. 


76 


BOY DONALD 


“ The wind had changed to the south/’ he 
observed in a satisfied tone, and if it stayed in 
that direction, would drive the canon-fire away 
from them instead of toward them. 

He even indulged in a few jokes during the 
meal, and rose from table with the remark 
that he guessed they wouldn’t be routed out 
that night by fire-bells. He guessed they’d 
been more scared than hurt. 

Though I ain’t sorry we ploughed,” he 
added, running his fingers through his hair. 
‘‘ It’s best to be on the safe side.” 

Seeing the little boys already nodding, Kirke 
made haste to conduct them to their bedroom, 
which was next that of the Amabels, and opened 
from the kitchen. 

Boy Donald was not pleased with this kitchen 
bedroom. 

“ I don’t want to sleep in here, Kirke,” he 
muttered, the moment he entered it. It is so 
homely.” 


THE FIRE-BREAK 


77 


“ Hush, Don,” whispered Kirke, beginning 
to unlace the child’s boot. “ Mrs. Amabel will 
hear, and think you’re very rude.” 

But Donald had still another grievance. 

“ I want you to sleep with me, Kirke,” he 
whimpered, coming out with the whole story. 

I don’t want you to go ’way, ’way off ! ” 
Sleep with you in that narrow little bed, 
Don ! The idea ! Why, the bed is hardly large 
enough for you and Julius.” 

Please sleep with me, Kirke ! I’ll lie just 
as thin ! ” 

“ Nonsense, little brother. It’s no use teas- 
ing, I must sleep in the hall bedroom with 
Paul, and you must sleep here with Julius.” 

'' He shan’t ! I won’t let Donny sleep wiv 
me ! ” piped up slighted Julius, who had lis- 
tened with growing indignation to the dia- 
logue. “ Donny isn’t my twin any more. 
Donny shan’t sleep in my bed ! ” 

‘‘ O Julie. I am your twin. Yes, yes, I 


78 


BOY DONALD 


am,” exclaimed Boy Donald, in distress lest his 
little comrade should go off into a fit of the 
“ grumps.” “ Fm your truly twin forever and 
ever.” 

'‘Of course, Julie. You and Don are just 
as twinny now as ever you were,” said Kirke 
in a jolly tone; “ and dear little chums to boot. 
Now into your nighties, both of you, and kiss 
me good night.” 

Being almost too drowsy for words, the chil- 
dren cuddled into bed without further protests; 
but^as Kirke went away he heard Boy Donald 
call after him softly, 

“Won’t you leave your door open, Kirke? 
Please do.” 

After all the others had retired Mr. Amabel 
brought out the family pen and inkstand, and 
sat down at the dining-table to enter upon his 
account book the expenses incurred in his trip 
to the city. 

“ I ain’t worried about fire as long as the 


THE FIRE-BREAK 


79 


wind doesn’t blow,” he said to himself; but I 
shall feel easier to take a look round the prem- 
ises once in a while to-night. I guess I may 
as well keep my clothes on.” 

And to guard against slumber he worked 
diligently upon his accounts late into the small 
hours, till overcome by fatigue he fell fast asleep 
with the pen in his hand. 


CHAPTER IX 


FIGHTING FIRE 

That ni^ht Kirke dreamed of being at his 
home in Silver Gate City. He fancied himself 
in the back yard, helping the gardener, as he 
had frequently done before, to make a bonfire 
of dry leaves and twigs raked from the lawn. 
Jingo, Captain Bradstreet’s mischievous 
monkey, was frolicking about them, and as 
often as they set fire to the heap of brush would 
dash into the midst of it and scatter the blaz- 
ing rubbish to the winds. 

In his dream Kirke was so angry with the 
saucy creature that he shook him with all his 
might, and halloed to Paul across the street 
to come and take him away. 

Let go, Kirke, will you ? What are you 

8o 


FIGHTING FIRE 


8i 


shaking me for ? growled in reply, not the 
monkey but Paul Bradstreet himself, for Kirke 
had been laying violent hands upon his sleeping 
bedfellow. 

“ Let go, I tell you ! ” repeated Paul crossly. 
‘‘ You needn't choke a fellow if you do have 
the nightmare ! " 

Kirke rubbed open his eyes and sat upright. 
What was it that he saw through the window 
at the foot of the bed ? Was it a bonfire ? Was 
he still dreaming? 

Alas no ! Real flames were creeping around 
the veranda post opposite him. A strange lurid 
glare flooded the room. 

Kirke leaped to the floor wide awake in an 
instant. 

Fire ! Fire ! " he vociferated, “ the house 
is on fire ! 

Seizing the ewer from the washstand, he ran 
with it through the hall to the veranda. 

Once outside the house he could see the spot 


82 


BOY DONALD 


upon the roof where the blaze had first started. 
Probably a spark had been wafted thither from 
the fire which the lad now plainly heard crack- 
ling in the canon below. The fire-break had 
checked the flames from running along the 
ground, but what could have prevented them 
from flying through the air, now that the wind 
was again blowing fiercely. 

Kirke dashed the water from his ewer as 
high as he could, and succeeded in deluging a 
few tongues of fire that were lapping the sweet 
faces of the roses. Then all of a shiver he 
darted back to his room and called to Paul half- 
dressed in the doorway, 

“ The roof is blazing like mad ! Wake Mr. 
Amabel, can’t you, while I slip on my clothes ? ” 
Here I am, boys ! ” roared the farmer, 
running around the front of the veranda, with 
a ladder on his shoulder. “ Fetch some water 
quick ! ” 

Mr. Amabel had not been in bed that night, 


FIGHTING FIRE 83 

and had sprung from his chair at Paul's first 
outcry. 

“ Pve routed my folks/' he called out from 
half way up the ladder. “ They're at the pump, 
filling the buckets." 

“ Shan't I bring the force pump, Mr. Ama- 
bel ? " screamed Kirke rushing off. 

No, the force pump’s busted. Fetch along 
a broom.” 

“ Here's a broom ! ” shrieked Kirke now 
partially dressed. 

Mr. Amabel caught the broom in mid air, 
and shouted, 

“ Fetch me the blankets you’ll find in a tub 
on the porch." 

“ Shan't I wake the kids first ? The kids, 
Mr. Amabel ? " 

Not yet, they're better off where they are. 
The fire's nowheres nigh ’em.” 

In a twinkling Kirke was back with the 
dripping blankets and helping his nervous host 


84 


BOY DONALD 


to Spread them over the already blistering 
shingles of the roof. 

“ If we can keep these woolen sheets sopping 
wet we may make out to smother the blaze/’ 
wheezed Mr. Amabel, stamping upon a flame 
escaping from beneath them. 

‘‘Paul, hand me that bucket.” 

Paul had come with two pailfuls of water, 
and Kirke flashed down the ladder for two 
more. 

Mrs. Amabel meanwhile was pumping for 
dear life, filling tubs as fast as the lads could 
empty them. And presently Mr. Amabel him- 
self joined the ranks, and there were three 
water-carriers, with four buckets, one kettle 
and a wash-boiler at their service. 

Under the combined efforts of the four work- 
ers the fire hissed and died down. 

“ We’re drowning it! ” yelled Kirke. “ Hur- 
rah! We’re drowning it. We’ll soon kill it 
dead! 


FIGHTING FIRE 


85 


“ If it doesn’t kill us first,” gasped Paul, 
staggering toward the house with the heavy 
wash-boiler. “ But I thought one while — ” 
“Timothy Moses!” he ejaculated, inter- 
rupting himself, “ The thing has broken out 
again ! Higher up too ! ” 

This was the sober truth. While they worked 
the fire had been creeping along inside the 
rafters, out of reach. 

“ Forever more ! ” exclaimed Kirke, catching 
sight of a truant flame upon the ridge pole. 
“The kids! We must wake the kids! ” 

“ Yes, yes, boys, bring out the youngsters ! 
The furniture ! Everything you can get 
hold of ! ” cried Mr. Amabel in a whirl- 
wind of agitation. “ This building is bound 
to go ! ” 

The lads did not hear him. They were en- 
tering the kitchen by the rear of the cottage, 
which was as yet untouched by the fire. 

“ Paul, you take Julie ! I’ll look out for 


86 


BOY DONALD 


Don ! said Kirke, throwing open the door of 
the children’s room. 

And they went in, pursued by wreaths of 
smoke. Alone upon the bed lay little Julius 
fast asleep. Catching him up in the coverlet 
Paul carried him out of doors, and as he went 
heard Don screaming in the dim distance, 

“ Kirke, O Kirke, where are you ? The 
smoke smarts my eyes. I can’t see! Why 
don’t you say something, Kirke? Are you 
burning afire?” 

Kirke found bewildered Boy Donald stum- 
bling about the stifling hall and sobbing with all 
his little might. Without a word he gathered 
the trembling child in his arms and bore him 
out through the smoky kitchen, while Donald 
clung to his neck, wailing, 

O Kirke, I couldn’t find you anywhere 1 I 
s’pected you was burning afire ! ” 

Well you see I’m not burning, sweetheart! 
Hush, hush, Boysie, don’t cry so.” 



He g'athered the trembling" child in his arms and 
bore him out throug'h the smoky kitchen. 


V 



s 


t 





0 


t 


9 



i 



I 


i 


# 







V 

* 


t 


FIGHTING FIRE 87 

“ O, don’t go away again and leave me, 
Kirke. Please, please don’t ! ” 

“ Leave you, Don ? Why, I wouldn’t leave 
you to-night for a thousand dollars,” answered 
Kirke, almost sobbing himself. 

What if his loving little brother had wan- 
dered a little farther in pursuit of him and 
been overcome by the smoke ? Kirke dared not 
dwell on the thought. 

I’m going to wrap you up warm, Don, and 
put you down here by Julie where the fire can’t 
get to } u,” he continued, hurrying with his 
precious burden to the live oak in the yard. 
“You won’t stir from this place; will you?” 

“ Will you stay with me, Kirke?” 

“ I can’t, Don. I must help move things out 
of the house.” 

“ I want to help too.” 

“ Oh no, Boysie, you’re too little.” 

“ But you said, Kirke, you wouldn’t leave 
me any more ! ” 


88 


BOY DONALD 


I shan't go out of sight, Don. Sit here 
by Julie, and you can watch me every minute." 

Don obeyed. 

“ I won’t stir, Kirke, I won’t move a single 
speck.’’ 

And away flew Don’s hero to assist the others 
in saving furniture and in warding oflf the fire 
from the barn and windmill. 

During the next half hour the four accom- 
plished wonders. Before the blazing roof fell 
in they had taken from the house the greater 
part of its contents and piled them under the 
tree around the little boys. 

The first thing removed was the owl in its 
cage; the last the large kitchen range. This 
range was heavy and awkward to lift, and in 
his desire to spare the strength of his aids Mr. 
Amabel overtasked himself and injured his 
lame back. 

Tm afraid, boys. I’ve gone the length of 


FIGHTING FIRE 


89 


my chain ! ” he groaned, sinking down in the 
yard beside the rescued stove. I shall have 
to depend upon you to-day to keep things hum- 
ming.’’ 

‘‘ O we’ll work, Mr. Amabel,” responded 
Kirke briskly. “ But the bees will do the hum- 
ming ! Hear ’em, how they buzz ! ” 

The sun was just rising, and the little winged 
insects could be seen swarming about their 
hives in much distress at all this unwonted 
noise and confusion. 

‘‘ Yes, Mr. Fay’s bees are alive. I’m glad 
of that anyway,” said Mr. Amabel, wincing at 
a sharp pain in his back. “ If the barn had 
gone we couldn’t have saved ’em. And five 
or six hundred swarms of bees would have been 
no fool of a loss.” 

O things might have been worse with us,” 
sighed Mrs. Amabel. “ I’m sure we ought to 
be thankful that the stock and barn ain’t burnt.” 


90 


BOY DONALD 


Slie had hardly spoken these words when 
Boy Donald was heard to shout in a high, 
quavering voice, 

‘‘ It’s a-burning now ! Don’t you see, Mrs. 
Amabel? The barn is a-burning! ” 


CHAPTER X 


TWO BRAVE LADS 

If Mrs. Amabel had not spoken of the barn 
Boy Donald would not have glanced at it and 
espied the tiny blaze upon its eaves. And on 
seeing the blaze if he had not screamed Kirke 
could not have put it out before it got beyond 
control. And if Kirke had not been a fine 
gymnast he could not have put it out at all. 

But Kirke was remarkably agile. He did 
what none of his companions would have dared 
attempt. He climbed the tall sycamore by the 
windmill, ran out on a branch that drooped 
over the barn and swung himself down on the 
roof. Having done this he easily stamped out 
the fire. 

Thus you perceive it was he and Boy Donald 


91 


92 


BOY DONALD 


who saved the barn, though to be sure Donald 
took no credit to himself, but boasted for days 
of his wonderful brother. 

When Kirke reached the earth again after 
putting out the fire, everybody was loud in 
his praise, especially his grateful host and 
hostess. 

“ I don’t know what we should have done 
without you. Master Kirke,” said Mrs. Amabel, 
placing a pillow under her husband’s head. 
“ You’ve been the greatest help and comfort to 
us, — you and Master Paul.” 

“ / wanted to help too, Mrs. Amabel,” spoke 
up Boy Donald, eager to be commended. I 
wanted to help, but Kirke — ” 

Donald paused abruptly. On second thought 
he would not say his brother wouldn’t let him, 
he would not seem to blame his beloved hero. 

Mr. Amabel glanced at Kirke with a sly 
smile. 

“ What little man saw that barn afire and 


TIVO BRAVE LADS 


93 


put US up to saving it? Don't you call that 
helping?” 

Boy Donald gave a little purr of satisfaction 
and smiled all over his face. 

“ Well, I seem to be kind of laid up,” went 
on Mr. Amabel. We shall miss Manuel about 
the milking, that’s a fact! But I guess my 
folks can manage it; they’ve milked before 
now.” 

O, Paul and I would be ashamed to let 
Mrs. Amabel do the milking while zve are here ; 
wouldn’t we, Paul ? ” said Kirke gallantly. 

“ Indeed we would,” responded Paul. 

“ Know how to milk, either of you ? ” asked 
Mr. Amabel quietly. 

‘‘ No, but we can learn,” answered Paul with 
easy assurance. always wanted to learn.” 

Not on my cows, I guess!” Mr. Amabel’s 
lips twitched at the corners. ‘‘ It wouldn’t pay 
you to try it. But there’s enough else to do, 
now I’m in this fix.” 


94 


BOY DONALD 


“ rm thinking we shall all feel better for 
something hot to drink,” observed Mrs. Ama- 
bel, who, after searching for the coffee had at 
last found it in the churn. 

“ I can make the coffee, Mrs. Amabel. I 
learned how at the cooking-class at school,” 
exclaimed Kirke, raking together some embers 
left from the burning house, of which the chim- 
neys alone were standing. 

“ Paul and I will get breakfast while you’re 
milking,” he added, fishing the tea-kettle out 
of the clothes-basket, and looking around for 
the water pail. 

“ You mean we’ll get breakfast if we can 
find the provisions to get it with,” remarked 
Paul drily, after Mrs. Amabel had set out for 
the pasture with a milk pail dangling from 
either arm. Has anybody seen anything of 
the butter- jar? ” 

It’s under the feather bed there; the clock 
is on top of it.” 


TWO BRAVE LADS 


95 

And here’s Mrs. Amabel’s bread-chest, 
Kirke. I found it my own self,” cried Boy 
Donald, pushing aside a salted codfish and Mrs. 
Amabel’s best bonnet in order to display his 
prize. 

‘‘And Fve found some honey, I have,” 
boasted Julius, not to be left behind in rum- 
maging. 

“ Only the plate is wrong side out,” he con- 
tinued sorrowfully; “and the honey is a-run- 
ning into the soap.” 

“ Never mind a little thing like that Fay 
Junior,” laughed Kirke. “ Honey isn’t very 
filling. What we want is something heartier.” 

“ I agree with you,” said Paul, “ we’re as 
hollow as nutshells.” 

“ I remember fetching out a basket of eggs 
a few minutes ago,” said Mr. Amabel, who 
still lay on the ground with his head on a 
pillow. “Where could I have dropped ’em?” 

“ Dropped eggs! You’ve given me a bright 


96 BOY DONALD 

idea, Mr. Amabel. We’ll have dropped eggs 
on toast,” exclaimed Paul, and went peering 
about the heap of household goods till he dis- 
covered the missing egg-basket on the sewing- 
machine making friends with the owl cage. 

By the time Mrs. Amabel returned with the 
milk Paul and the two small lads had set the 
table with whatever dishes came first, and Kirke 
had prepared the coffee and toast. 

The sight of the steaming breakfast was very 
pleasing to their tired hostess. 

“ The land ! If you boys haven’t done well,” 
she ejaculated, as she washed her hands at the 
pump. 

‘‘Now I wonder if we can’t help Rufus to 
the lounge there by the table, so he can eat with 
us?” 

“ I can help myself some. But don’t you 
be scared at my hollerin’,” said Mr. Amabel, 
well suited with this suggestion. And, aided 


TWO BRAVE LADS 


97 


considerably by his wife and the older lads, he 
hobbled over to the couch. 

Boy Donald placed his own chair at table 
between that of his little chum and that of 
Kirke, remarking that it was “nice to eat out 
doors ; ’twas just like a picnic.'' 

He and Julius were in high spirits, for had 
they not furnished their share of the repast by 
dragging to light some cookies that had been 
hidden in a tin box under a heap of carpeting? 

“ Yes, Don, it's nice to eat out of doors when 
you can eat in a house made of a tree," re- 
turned Kirke, with an admiring glance at the 
green foliage above them. “If we only had 
a roof over these branches we could make Mr. 
Amabel quite comfortable to-night." 

“ How I wish we had our tent here," said 
Paul, helping himself from a jar of fig pickles 
discovered in Mrs. Amabel's work-basket. 

Kirke's eyes at that moment fell upon the 


98 BOY DONALD 

great parlor carpet which had concealed the 
cookies. 

“ Why not make a tent, Paul ? Don’t you 
believe we can drag that carpet over the oak? ” 

“ That’s a brilliant thought ! I’m sure we 
can. We can drag it over the tree and tie the 
corners of it to stakes driven into the ground. 
What do you say, Mr. Amabel ? ” 

“ What do / say. Master Paul ? I say you 
two boys do beat the Dutch for contriving,” 
replied the ranchman with enthusiasm. I’ve 
been worrying to know what was going to be- 
come of me, spread out here as flat as a floun- 
der; but I never once thought of having a room 
built round me ! ” 

“ You shall have it though, Mr. Amabel,” 
said Paul cheerily. “ You can play that you’re 
a caterpillar, and that we spin your cocoon 
for you.” 

“ You see I’m wuss’n a caterpillar. Master 
Kirke; a caterpillar does its own spinning.” 


TWO BRAVE LADS 


99 


“ Not when it's crushed, as you are, Mr. 
Amabel—" 

It plagues me I tell you, to have you boys 
bearing the heft of everything." 

“O, don’t be disturbed about our working 
too hard, Mr. Amabel," interposed Paul. “ Our 
muscles are tough; we haven’t played foot-ball 
for nothing." 

After breakfast he and Kirke tied ropes to 
the two corners of one end of the carpet, and 
climbing into the oak tree succeeded in drawing 
the great square of tapestry over its topmost 
branches. 

Having done this they drove into the ground 
two rows of stakes, one on one side the tree, 
the other on the other side; and to these they 
fastened the edges of the carpet. 

When they had finished, behold there was a 
snug enclosure made, with an opening at two 
ends, the front and the back. 

Next, by piling up boxes, bureaus and other 

LofC. 


lOO 


BOY DONALD 


articles they divided the inclosure into two 
rooms, each having its own door. The front 
room was to be the general dining-and-sitting- 
room; the other was to be a bedroom for Mr. 
and Mrs. Amabel. 

“ You haven’t made any bedroom for Julie 
and me, Kirke,” complained Boy Donald, who 
had been sharply observing what was going on. 

No, Don, because you and Julie will sleep 
in the wagon .with Paul and me. We’ll haul 
the wagon out of the barn and put it near this 
lovely tent ! ” 

O goody, goody ! ” 

Donald was so completely overjoyed that 
he jumped up and down six times without 
stopping, and then pranced off astride a broom- 
stick to carry the welcome news to Julius. 

Soon after sunset Paul and Kirke wheeled 
the great wagon into the yard, and when they 
had tucked the children snugly away for the 
night sat down upon a laprobe on the grass and 


TWO BRAVE LADS 


lOI 


sang to them. Or, to be quite accurate, Paul 
sang, while Kirke whistled his accompaniment. 
And this was the lullaby : 

“ The Rock-a-by Lady from Hushaby Street 
Comes stealing, comes creeping; 

The poppies they hang from her head to her feet, 

And each hath a dream that is tiny and fleet. 

She bringeth her poppies to you, my sweet, 

When she findeth you sleeping.” 

Before the song ended Boy Donald and Julie 
were both quiet in dreamland. And by nine 
o’clock that evening all was tranquil about the 
grounds where only yesterday had stood Mr. 
Fay’s country residence known as Casa de 
Rosas. 


CHAPTER XI 


‘‘ THE BEAD ROAD 

The next morning while Mrs. Amabel got 
breakfast and the little boys raked among the 
blackened ruins of the house for possible treas- 
ures, Paul and Kirke held a private council 
behind the barn. 

The question for debate was this: What 
should they and Donald and Julie do with 
themselves during the coming week? 

I wish we could go to Eagle’s Crest to-day 
and wait there till Mr. Eay and the rest of them 
come,” said Kirke, whittling a bit of shingle 
as he talked. We could if Manuel was here.” 

“ Yes, if wishes were horses then beggars 
might ride,” returned Paul, aiming a stone at 


102 


THE BEAD ROADJ 


103 


the ridge-pole of the barn and hitting the mark. 
“ But Manuel is not here and he won’t be here 
for several days.” 

Kirke whistled. 

“ I don’t see any sense in his staying away 
so long; do you Paul?” 

“ O the poor fellow is homesick for his 
mother, I suppose.” 

“ And I’m homesick for a hotel,” retorted 
Kirke, cleaning his finger nails with the sharp- 
ened point of the shingle. “ Wouldn’t it be 
nice to go to Eagle’s Crest where things are 
sort of ship shape? — But there it’s no use to 
think of it. We couldn’t leave the Amabels 
alone in this plight.” 

“ No, we couldn’t. It would be meaner than 
dirt.” 

“ O we must stay, Paul, there’s no doubt 
about that. We must stay and take care of the 
live stock and keep the kids from under Mrs. 
Amabel’s feet.” 


104 


BOY DONALD 


“ Aren’t the dear soul’s feet whoppers 
though? ” interjected Paul. 

Well, they ought to be, my boy. Aren’t 
they her sole support ? ” laughed Kirke. 

And, pleased with this essay at wit, the lad 
smoothed his ruffled brow and throwing down 
the shingle followed Paul to the “ carpet 
house.” 

“Breakfast is all ready,” called Boy Donald 
with a patch of smut on the end of his nose. 

“ But you’re not ready, Buster,” replied 
Kirke, with the smile which he usually wore 
for his little brother. “ Come with me to the 
pump and have your face scrubbed, — you little 
colored boy.” 

“Julie is colored’er than I am,” said Donald, 
pointing with great glee to his smutty twin 
just behind him. 

“ So he is. O what boys ! I’ve a great mind 
to put you both to soak in a tub.” 

When Kirke presently came to the table. 


THE BEAD ROAD 


105 

leading the two shiny-faced children he at once 
told Mr. Amabel what Paul and he had been 
talking about. 

“ If you want us, Mr. Amabel,'' he said, 
“ and if Mrs. Amabel can cook for so many, 
we’ll stay and try to help you out of this 
scrape.” 

“ Will you? I couldn’t have asked it of you, 
but I do wish you would,” returned the host, 
setting down his coffee cup with an air of satis- 
faction. 

Mr. Amabel now reclined on his couch at 
meals, after the feasting custom of ancient 
peoples. 

“ My folks and I have been studying what’s 
best to be done. What with my larneness and 
all, we’re in a bad fix and no mistake. And 
if you could make yourselves easy to stop here 
in all this clutter till Manuel comes it would 
take a great load off our minds.” 

“ Indeed it would,” put in Mrs. Amabel, pass- 


io6 


BOY DONALD 


ing the gingerbread. At first we thought 
we’d ask you boys to go back to Silver Gate 
City to tell Mr. Fay about the fire. And then 
it flashed over us that he’s gone to Denver by 
this time, and what’s the use to send? We 
shouldn’t gain anything by it.” 

“Not a thing,” said Paul. “ ’Twould only 
worry Mrs. Fay and Brenda, — No, we’d better 
stay here till Thursday just as if nothing had 
happened. Then we’ll drive to Eagle’s Crest 
that night and tell Mr. Fay the news.” 

“ ’Twill make him feel disagreeable when he 
comes to hear that the house is burnt to the 
ground,” sighed Mr. Amabel; “ but it isn’t as 
bad as it would be if the building wasn’t well 
insured.” 

“ And old besides, father. You know Mr. 
Fay has been talking of building a new one 
come Spring,” said cheerful Mrs. Amabel. 

She and her willing helpers were busy nearly 
all day in setting to rights the “ carpet tent.” 


THE BEAD ROAD ” 


• u 


107 


Articles not in present use were carried outside, 
where in that rainless climate they would come 
to no harm; and by sundown the living'-room 
looked quite home-like. 

“ I can tell you it isn’t everybody that’s rich 
enough to have walls hung with tapestry,” said 
Kirke to Paul with an approving nod at the 
gay carpet overhead. 

'‘Yes, and ’twas pretty shrewd in us to turn 
the flowery side of our roof inside,” he added. 

Tired from his labors the lad had extended 
himself in Mr. Amabel’s great rocking chair, 
but readily made room for Donald beside 
him. 

" Pretty shrewd in us, yes. What do you 
think of all this?” said Paul to Julius on his 
knee. “ Don’t you think our quarters are fit 
for a king ? ” 

"Quarters?” echoed Julius looking about 
him expecting to see some twenty-five cent 
pieces. " Where are the quarters ? ” 


io8 


BOY DONALD 


Of course he was laughed at for this, and 
to relieve his embarrassment Kirke said. 

“ Paul is talking about our fine tent, Julie. 
Wouldn’t an Indian be proud, though, if he 
could own a tent like ours ? ” 

“ I bet he would,” responded Julius with a 
grin. 

Tell us a story about an Indian, Kirke,” 
cried Boy Donald, snuggling close to his 
brother. Please tell us a good long story.” 

“ Pm afraid I can’t tonight Don. I can’t 
think of a single one.” 

“ I will, then, Don. I’ll tell a story about 
an Indian,” said Paul obligingly. 

“ Oh how nice ! ” chuckled the little boys in 
chorus. 

“ Well, once upon a time in the Public Li- 
brary at Silver Gate City I stumbled upon the 
tale of a monk. He — ” 

‘'A monkey's tail, hey?” interrupted mis- 
chievous Kirke. ‘‘ Was it your Jingo? ” 


THE BEAD ROAD 


109 

Paul silenced his comrade with a stray pillow, 
and continued, 

“ This monk lived in Peru among the In- 
dians. He had lost a large sum of money and 
the Indian in the story was so sorry for him 
that he trudged off to a secret mine that nobody 
knew of except the Indians and brought the 
monk a bag full of silver. 

“ O, what a kind Indian,’^ exclaimed Donald. 

What did the monk say ? ” 

“ I suppose he must have said ‘ Thank you.^ 
But it wasn’t long before he asked the Indian 
for another bag of silver.” 

“ That wasn’t very polite ! Did the Indian 
bring it to him ? ” 

“ Yes. And then the monk teased for a third 
bagful.” 

Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full,” hummed 
Kirke. 

“ And after that third bagful had been given 
him he begged to see the silver mine ! ” 


no 


BOY DONALD 


That monk ought to ha’ been ashamed of 
hisself ! ” cried Boy Donald, his blue eyes flash- 
ing. That kind Indian ! Did he show him 
the mine ? ” 

“He did — and he didn’t! I’ll tell you; one 
dark night he and two other Indians went to 
the monk’s house and blindfolded him.. Then 
they took turns in toting him on their shoulders 
till they came to the mine. They wouldn’t let 
him walk a step. They didn’t want him to know 
what path they took or how far they went.” 

“ ’Course not,” said Julius. 

“ But when they set him down on the ground 
and stripped the bandage off his eyes he saw 
he was deep in the earth with silver ore on 
every side of him. The Indians told him to 
pick up all he wanted; and he crammed his 
pockets — if monks have pockets, — and his 
sleeves, and filled his hands besides.” 

“ He must have been pretty heavy by that 
time,” remarked Kirke. 


THE BEAD ROAD '' 


III 


“ Yes, I don’t know whether he could have 
walked home with such a load or not. He 
begged to try, but the Indians wouldn’t let him. 
They took him up again to tote him. He 
knew why they did it.” 

“ So do I,” said Boy Donald. 

And he detetrmined to outwit them, and 
make a trail so he could find his way back to 
that mine. So what did he do but unfasten 
his rosary from his neck, and keep dropping 
beads off the string as they carried him along.” 

‘‘ Just as the little fairy story girl did, Julie, 
when the old witch was carrying her off,” 
nodded Donald with approval. 

“ Only the little girl dropped peas, Donny,” 
corrected Julius yawning. 

“ I remember,” said Paul. Well, the In- 
dians left the monk at his house at last and 
there he lay awake in bed till daylight.” 

‘‘ I know why he wanted it to be light, Paul,” 
explained Boy Donald. “ He wanted it to be 


112 


BOY DONALD 


light SO he could see the bead road he had 
made/^ 

“ You’re right, Don. But the monk never 
saw that bead road after all.” 

Why not, Paul?” 

“Because ’twas gone before he could even 
look for it. Early next morning the Indian 
knocked at his door and called out, 

“ I’ve brought back your beads. Father. You 
dropped them on the way.” 

“ O dear, ’twas too bad to spoil the nice 
little bead road ! ” 

“ Yes, but the Indian had to do it, Don. He 
had no notion of giving away the secret of that 
mine. And he never brought the monk any 
more silver, you may be sure of that.” 

“ Good ! I’m glad of that, aren’t you, 
Julie? ” declared Donald very much in earnest. 

“Orful glad. That monk was a selfish old 
fing!” returned Julius, winking very fast. 

“ So he was! You don’t want to hear any 


THE BEAD ROAD 


more about him; do you, Julie?” said Paul 
smiling. “ No, Fm sure you^d rather listen to 
the bugles of dreamland.” 

And Paul hummed softly, 

“ Swiftly the dews of the gloaming are falling, 
Faintly the bugles of Dreamland are calling.” 


CHAPTER XII 


THE MONKEY-FACED OWL 

With Mr. Amabel still so disabled, lying 
almost helpless on the lounge, and Manuel Ca- 
rillo away, Paul and Kirke were obliged to keep 
at work about the ranch from morning till 
night. 

When the cows and mules had been fed and 
watered, there yet remained Mr. Fay.^^ two 
horses to be groomed and served their daily 
rations of barley-heads and hay. “ This span 
made extra trouble,’’ Mr. Amabel said. Be- 
sides there were the garden and the orchard to 
irrigate. 

The boys were not used to such steady work. 
Each day brought new duties; and as Kirke 
privately remarked one afternoon to Paul, 


THE MONKEY-FACED OWL 115 

If we have a moment’s leisure we are 
sure to find Mrs. Amabel’s water buckets 
empty.” 

Not that Mrs. Amabel ever asked or even 
desired the lads to fill these for her; but they 
had been gallant enough to assume the task of 
furnishing the household supply of both wood 
and water. 

“ I don’t mind the working, Paul,” Kirke 
continued, as he and his comrade gathered 
guavas for the tea table. What I mind is 
having no time to ourselves. I’d like to tramp 
among the hills; wouldn’t you? I want to see 
the country. I’m just longing to rush off and 
explore.” 

Boy Donald chanced to overhear the last 
sentence; and laying it away in his memory 
after his childish fashion, said to Kirke next 
morning as they left the breakfast table. 

Me and Julie want to explode; may we, 
Kirke?” 


ii6 


BOY DONALD 


You want to do what, Don? 

Puzzled Kirke had quite forgotten his own 
remark of yesterday about exploring. 

Why we want to explode — ^we want to go 
and see the country.” 

‘‘ Haw ! Haw ! Let the little fellows * ex- 
plode ' if they've set their hearts on it. 'Twill 
do 'em good,'' chuckled Mr. Amabel. 

He was lying as usual on the lounge; and his 
wife had spread across his breast a sheet of 
tangle-foot fly-paper to entrap the flies that 
swarmed about him. His back was less painful 
today than usual, and he felt in excellent 
spirits. 

“ May we, Kirke ? '' persisted Boy Donald, 
following his brother to the front of the carpet 
tent, known as the front door. “ Julie and me 
haven't any place to play.” 

“ Why, I thought you had all out doors, 
Don ! ” 

No, we haven’t, not now. You won’t let 


THE MONKEY-FACED OWL 


117 


US play in the ashes any more. O, ’twas such 
bee-you-ti-ful fun to play in the ashes ! ’’ 

“ And to get beau-ti-fully black like two 
young crows. Yes, I dare say it was; but I 
can^t have you raking among cinders and spoil- 
ing your clothes. Why don’t you play * horse ’ 
over there beyond the bee-hives ? ” 

“ O, we’re scared to, Kirke, ’cause the bees 
might get angry at us and chase us.” 

''And we can’t watch the owl wink,” said 
Julie, " ’cause he has flowed away.” 

This was a trial to the little boys. One of 
the bars of the cage had been cracked at the 
time of the fire, and the owl had managed to 
force it in two and make his escape. 

" Let the little midgets have the run of the 
great barley field. Master Kirke, I would,” 
called Mr. Amabel from his lounge. " There’s 
a wire fence all around it, and as long as they 
stay inside that fence they can’t come to any 
harm.” 


ii8 


BOY DONALD 


‘‘Can we see the whole of the field, from 
here, Mr. Amabel ? ” 

“ Every acre of it. And there isn’t a well 
or a hole in it.” 

The field referred to was not the one which 
had been ploughed for a firebreak the previous 
week. It lay on the other side of the ranch, 
and was separated from the canon by a large 
pasture, in which the cattle were feeding. 

“ Please let us go, Kirke, O please let us 
go,” entreated Boy Donald, making quick litttle 
leaps about his hero. 

Julius meanwhile never opened his lips. He 
had crept under the table some minutes before, 
in what his sister Brenda called “a fit of the 
grumps.” The attack had been brought on in 
this case by Kirke’ s begging him not to get 
under Mrs. Amable’s feet while she washed the 
dishes. 

“ If I’ll let you go, Don, will you promise to 
stay in the field ? ” asked Kirke, smiling down 


THE MONKEY-FACED OWL 119 

Upon the child’s beseeching face, framed with 
short golden ringlets. Will you promise not 
to crawl under the fence ? ” 

‘‘ Yes, O yes.” 

“ Well, give me a kiss then, and off with 
you. Maybe Mrs. Amabel will let you take 
along a few cookies to keep you from starving 
between now and dinner time.” 

Kirke had no sooner left the tent than sullen 
little Julius came out of his hiding-place. Mrs. 
Amabel was putting some cookies into a pretty 
little basket. 

“ Be sure to start for home the moment you 
hear me blow the horn,” she said, handing the 
basket to Julius. And don’t forget to fetch 
this back with you.’^ 

“ Yes, we will,” replied Julius, answering 
the first question. 

“ No, we won’t, Mrs. Amabel,” said Don- 
ald, answering the second one. 

And the little boys skipped away with the 


120 


BOY DONALD 


basket swinging between them. In another mo- 
ment they had squeezed through the bars of 
the barley field and were prancing in the stub- 
ble like two gay young colts. To be alone to- 
gether on a great brown plain with purple 
mountains around them, and the blue sky over 
their heads, made them feel shivery at first; 
but the flutter of a bird’s wings in the distance 
drove away the shivers. 

See that bird, Julie. S’pose it’s a gull?” 
exclaimed Boy Donald, without a doubt that 
sea-gulls could be found as far inland as Casa 
de Rosas ranch. 

'' Maybe it’s Mrs. Amabel’s owl,” suggested 
Julius. “Wouldn’t it be nice if he’d come 
down into that tree there and let us catch 
him?” 

“Gee! Wouldn’t it though? We’d carry 
him home and s’prise Mrs. Amabel.” 

The tree was a long way ahead, and the bird 
high in the air; but what difference did that 


THE MONKEY-FACED OWL 


121 


make to the hopeful, excited children? They 
ran forward with all speed till they actually 
saw the bird swoop down from the sky and dis- 
appear into the thick foliage of the oak. 

“ He’s going to rest hisself,” cried Julius, 
by this time nearly out of breath. Let’s stop 
and eat, Donny.” 

Yes, so we will,” responded Boy Donald, 
lifting the cover of the little basket. “ I’m glad 
Mrs. Amabel gave us these cookies. Wasn’t 
Kirke good to ask her ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” growled Julie, with a re- 
turn of ‘‘ the grumps.” 

And he drew out a cookie and began to make 
snappish little bites around the rim of it. 

My Kirke is awful good, Julie. He’s the 
goodest boy there is ! ” 

“ No, he isn’t, Donny. I don’t think Kirke 
is good at-a-11 ! ” 

“Why-ee! Why, Julie Fay!” ejaculated 
Boy Donald in angry surprise. 


122 


'BOY DONALD 


''Telled me not to get under Mrs. Amabel's 
feet,” continued resentful Julius. if I 

would! What did Kirke s’pose I wanted to 
get under Mrs. Amabel’s feet for?” 

Donald could not answer this question. He 
could only repeat in a higher key, My Kirke 
is the goodest boy there is, so now, Julie Fay. 
You’re a naughty boy to say he isn’t, and I 
don’t like you any more.” 

And without deigning a glance at his erring 
little comrade, Kirke’s young champion skipped 
on toward the tree. 


CHAPTER XIII 


IN AN OAK TREE 

** O DEAR, Donny doesn^t like me any more, 
and weVe twins too!” muttered Julius pluck- 
ing spitefully at the short barley stubble in 
which he was sitting. 

Then as he gazed after Donald, swinging 
the basket in his hand, 

‘‘ And O dear, dear, he’ll eat the cookies all 
up!” . 

The sight of that little basket brought Julius 
out of the grumps ” in hot haste; for how 
could he afford to lose Donny’s friendship and 
the cookies besides? 

Jumping up from the ground he hurried to 
overtake his chum, and murmured with eyes 
cast down, 


123 


124 


BOY DONALD 


“ I like you, Donny/’ 

I don’t care, I don’t like you, Julie Fay,” 
cried wounded Donald running on, “ ’cause 
you don’t think my Kirke is good at all ! ” 

“ O yes, I do, Donny.” 

How good, Julie? ” 

“ O just a little good.” 

“ H’m ! My brother Kirke’s gooder’n 
that!” 

Boy Donald ran on all the faster, winking 
to keep back the tears. 

“ Well, I’ll say he’s pretty good, Donny,” 
puffed Julius far behind. 

“ Kirke is gooder than pretty good,” per- 
sisted the devoted brother. 

“ Well then,ril say he’s good enough! ” re- 
turned Julius, rather crossly it must be con- 
fessed. 

Nevertheless he had acknowledged that 
Kirke was ‘‘ good enough,” and Boy Donald 
was satisfied. He not only waited for Julius to 


IN AN OAK TREE 


125 


catch up with him but held out a cookie, say- 
ing in a pacific tone, 

“ There, take that, Julie, and stop behav- 
ing! 

The little boys soon reached the oak into 
which the bird had disappeared. They ex- 
pected at any moment to hear the rustling of 
wings ; though the truth was that the hawk had 
flown away long ago. 

We can’t see the owl, 'cause the tree is so 
thick with leaves,” complained Julius. 

‘‘ I guess the bird is sitting on its nest,” said 
Donald. “ Hist ! Don’t make a bit of noise I 
I’m going up to look.’’ 

O Donny, do you dare to? ” 

‘‘ ’Course I dare. This is a real easy tree.” 

A tree easy to climb, Donald meant, and 
was correct in his opinion, for the oak had 
many branches springing from its trunk, and 
the lowest of these branches was quite near 
the ground. 


126 


BOY DONALD 


Donald scrambled into the first crotch as 
nimbly as a* squirrel, and thence to the second 
and third. 

It’s lots of fun, Julie. You come too,” he 
whispered down to his little friend; and 
mounted yet higher. 

Clumsy little Julius, after several attempts, 
succeeded in reaching the lowest crotch of the 
tree; and then frightened half out of his wits, 
began to yell to Donald to help him down. 

“ I can’t get down my own self,” wailed 
Donald from a limb half way up the tree. 
'' Everything keeps wiggling. O Julie, I’m 
going to tumble.” 

The poor child was dizzy, and did not know 
what to make of it. He had never been light- 
headed before in his life. 

“ Don’t, Donny, don^t tumble on me! ” 
shrieked Julius in genuine alarm. “ You’ll 
tumble me down too. O dear ! Kirke hadn’t 
ought to let us come ! 


IN AN OAK TREE 


27 


“ Kirke, O Kirke ! ” bawled Boy Donald at 
the top of his voice. 

Kirke, 0 Kirke ! ” echoed Julius 
The children were answered by the distant 
tooting of Mrs. Amabel’s dinner horn. From 
his lofty perch Donald caught a glimpse of the 
woman’s tall figure standing by the bars; and 
shouted shrilly, 

“ Halloo, Mrs. Amabel ! Halloo ! Halloo ! ” 
The shout could not have reached Mrs. Ama- 
bel’s ears, for she turned and walked slowly 
back to the tent. 

“ I can’t make anybody hear ! They’re go- 
ing to sit down to the table without us ! ’’ 
howled Donald, half wild with despair. “ O 
where is my Kirke? ” 

It was unlike brave little Donald to act in 
this way. Julius was dismayed, and cried 
more than once. 

Stop it, Donny. O please stop it ! ” 

So long as he did not move about, Julius felt 


128 


BOY DONALD 


quite safe in the low crotch of the tree where 
he sat. With Donald it was far otherwise ; he 
was compelled to hold on to the high limb with 
all his might in order to keep himself from 
falling. 

“ I have to cry, Julie,” he whined piteously. 
“ My arms do ache so bad ! ” 

“ I’m awful sorry. Can’t you shin down 
Donny?” asked little Julius, who thought his 
twin spry enough to do almost anything. 

“No, I don’t dare to, Julie, ’cause things 
keep whirling round so.” 

It was Donald’s head that was whirling. He 
rested it against the branch he held, shutting 
his eyes so tightly that he failed to see a 
mounted horse leap the bars at that moment 
and come galloping toward them across the 
field. 

Julie was the first to see the horse and his 
rider, and exclaimed with a ringing shout. 


IN AN OAK TREE 


129 


Kirke is coming a-horseback. Kirke is 
coming a-horseback ! ” 

** He is? O where? O Kirke is the goodest 
boy there is ! ” 

Donald raised his head; his giddiness was 
passing off; and Kirke had no sooner arrived 
at the oak tree than his little admirer jumped 
down into his arms without a question. 

Then Kirke picked Julius out of the crotch 
of the tree and sat him in front of himself on 
the horse, and with Donald riding behind him 
went back to the house. 

How did you know we were in the tree, 
Kirke?” asked Donald, as they trotted care- 
fully through the stubble. “ Could you see 
us?” 

“ No, not a bit of you till I looked through 
papa’s field-glass.” 

Kirke’s tone was so cheerful that the chil- 
dren did not suspect how anxious he had been. 


130 


BOY DONALD 


When I looked through the glass I saw 
you plainly enough and went after you in a 
hurry. Manuel lent me his horse. Manuel 
has just got home.” 

“ O has he ? And shall you take us to 
Eagle’s Crest tomorrow ? ” 

“ I mean to, if I don’t lose you meanwhile,” 
said Kirke laughing. 

“ O there’s the owl now ! Just see the owl 
up that other tree ! ” cried Donald. 

You’re right, you’re right, little brother. 
We’ll have him back in his cage in less than 
no time.” 

The owl was caught; so it all ended well. 
And Kirke never told the little boys how he 
had felt them on his mind all that morning, 
and as he worked in the garden had cast many 
a glance at the barley field where they were 
playing; and how very anxious he had been 
when they disappeared from his sight. 


CHAPTER XIV 

EAGLETS CREST 

The Amabels watched the departure of 
their young guests on Thursday morning with 
real regret. Manuel Carillo perceived that 
there were tears in Mrs. Amabel’s eyes, though 
she only said brightly as she shook hands with 
one after another, 

“ Well, you may depend I’m dreadful sorry 
to have you go.” 

The instant the four lads arrived in front 
of the hotel at Eagle’s Crest little Miss Weezy 
ran out to the wagon to meet them, exclaim- 
ing, 

“ O boys, we’ve been looking and looking 
for you,— Brenda and I ! We’ve been here two 
whole hours, — papa and mamma, and Mr. and 


132 


BOY DONALD 


Mrs. Fay and all of us! And IVe seen almost 
everybody there is in this house I ” 

In her glad excitement Weezy chattered so 
fast that she left the quartette no opportunity 
to tell their own startling tidings. 

“ There are lots and lots of little girls here, 
Donny,” she went on, giving her small brother 
a hug and a kiss. “ And we’re going to have 
a barbecue and ” 

Barby Q. Who? What’s the rest of her 
name?” interrupted Boy Donald, slipping 
from her embrace. 

“How old is she?” cried Julie, no less in- 
terested than Donald in this supposed new 
comrade. 

“ Why, it isn’t she at all ! ” declared little 
Miss Weezy with a merry laugh, echoed by 
Kirke and Paul. “ Did you think the barbecue 
was a little girl? The idea! A barbecue is 
just a kind of party out doors, where they have 
a fire and roast things whole in a ” 


EAGLE’S CREST 


133 


“ WeVe had a fire too, our own selves, 
W eezy,” broke in Boy Donald, skipping behind 
his sister toward the piazza steps. “ Mr. Fay’s 
house is ” 

“ The landlord has sent a Mexican to hunt 
for a deer,” rattled on Miss Weezy, unheeding. 
“ And as soon as he shoots one we’re going to 
have the barbecue and ” 

“ Hello, mamma,^’ again interrupted Boy 
Donald, catching sight of his mother, the Fays 
and other home friends upon the piazza. 

“ O mamma, we’ve got an orful s’prize for 
Mr. Fay. His house is all burnt up, all but 
the chimneys ! ” 

“ My house burnt ? Anybody hurt? Where’s 
Julie?” cried Mr. Fay, rushing forward, his 
face as gray as ashes. 

“ Here I am, papa ! ” 

Julie had hidden behind Paul for fun, and 
now threw himself into his father’s arms with 
a joyful cry. 


134 


BOY DONALD 


** Thank Heaven, whatever may have hap- 
pened my little son is safe,” ejaculated Mr. 
Fay, pressing the wondering child to his breast. 

“ Be quick, you older boys, tell me about 
the fire.” 

Before Paul or Kirke could speak a dozen 
words Mrs. Fay and Brenda appeared and be- 
gan to smother Julius with kisses and to ply 
the older lads with eager questions. And very 
soon they were joined by the Rowes and 
Bradstreets, all desirous to express to Mr. Fay 
their sorrow for the late disaster. 

Altogether there was much stir and excite- 
ment among the group in that corner of the 
veranda; and if Paul and Kirke had been less 
engrossed in what they were saying they must 
have perceived that they were regarded by 
the numerous guests of the hotel with consid- 
erable curiosity. 

After listening to the boys' story Mr. Fay 
turned to Mrs. Fay with the remark, This 


EAGLETS CREST 


135 


accident will change our plans, Alice. We 
can’t go home tomorrow. I must leave you 
and the children here at the hotel and drive to 
the ranch immediately to see Mr. Amabel.’’ 

As Mr. Fay finished speaking Juan Mu- 
chado, the man sent by the landlord in search 
of a deer, returned to the hotel empty-handed. 

Little Miss Weezy knew that he had gone 
out two or three times before this without find- 
ing game of any sort, and she began to de- 
spair of the barbecue. 

“ O dear, to have Casa de Rosas burn all up, 
and not to have any barbecue either ! ” 

“ You don’t feel so bad about Casa de Rosas 
as I do, you can’t,” murmured Brenda, with 
her handkerchief to her eyes. “ O Frizzle Nig 
isn’t it dreadful.” 

“ Perfectly awful ! ” whispered Weezy, 
throwing her arms about her friend’s neck and 
sobbing with her. “ I tell you. Twisty Horn, 
Fm just as sorry for you as I can be! ” 


BOY DONALD 


136 

Frizzle Nig and “ Twisty Horn ’’ were 
their pet names for each other when talking 
confidentially; but they never said the words 
for any one else to hear. 

The landlord had not given up the barbecue 
by any means. The hunter rode out again that 
night on horseback; and next morning at five 
o’clock the hotel was aroused by a loud shout. 

Juan Muchado, the hunter, had killed a fine 
deer, so it was said, with horns six feet long. 

Kirke ran to the door of the chamber where 
Molly and Weezy slept, and announced this 
welcome news through the keyhole. 

“ Then we can have the barbecue ! ” cried 
Weezy. 

There was little more sleep in the hotel after 
that. Almost everybody was awake and astir. 

Perhaps the person most excited by the 
bringing of the deer was Louis, the new serv- 
ant. He was a mulatto, about the color of a 


EAGLES CREST 


^37 


new bronze lamp, and called himself a " chef ” 
(pronounced shef. Chef is the French name 
for a grand cook.) 

He despised Chinamen, and had been long- 
ing to show the guests at the hotel that he 
knew how to manage a barbecue better than 
any other man in California. He wore an air 
of great importance that morning. 

“ Massa Graffam,” said he to the landlord, 
“ You can’t ’spect me to do this ’thout right 
smart of wood! I mus’ have two cords. Yes, 
sah, — two cords o’ wood and bark, cook dis 
barbecue.” 

“ Very well, have your own way; but where 
will you get the wood? We haven’t so much 
as that in the shed. Can’t you use coal ? ” 
asked the landlord just to tease him. 

" Coal? ” Louis’s eyes locked ready to pop 
out of his head with disgust. “Coal, sah? 
Who ever heard of a fus’ class barbecue made 


138 


BOY DONALD 


out o’ coal? No, sah! jes’ you wait till after 
breakfast, sah, and lemme send out a team of 
bosses fotch dat wood.” 

'' All right,” said the landlord. 

He was willing that his horses should work 
for the interest of the hotel; but as Mr. Amabel 
had remarked, he was never willing to lend 
them to outsiders. 

Two hours later Julius and Boy Donald, 
who had been on the watch, saw Jake and Bill 
Smith, the hostlers, harnessing a four-horse 
team for the woods. 

“ Want to go along to see the trees cut down, 
little boys ? ” asked Jake, pleased with their 
bright faces. We can make room for a lot of 
you young folks as well as not.” 

The delighted twins skipped away to tell 
Mr. Rowe, and came back immediately with 
Paul and Pauline Bradstreet, Kirke, Molly and 
Weezy Rowe and Weezy’s friend, Brenda Fay. 


CHAPTER XV 


THE BARBECUE 

The drive to the woods was delightful, and 
the young people all took pleasure in watching 
the men, as they cut down a tall sycamore. 

Donald and Julius mounted a log at a little 
distance from the rest of the party in order to 
obtain a better view. 

“ I don’t see what Louis wants so much 
wood for,’^ said Molly, “ he is going to roast 
only one deer.” 

“ But he will roast it whole,” returned Kirke. 
“ Of course that makes a great difference.” 

“ So it does. And he’ll build the fire out of 
doors, he says. Do you suppose he’ll put the 
deer right on to the fire? I should think that 
would smoke it all up.” 


139 


140 


BOY DONALD 


Kirke thought so too, but confessed that he 
did not know anything about it. 

“ It’s lovely that we can watch this barbecue 
from the start,” said Molly. O, there’s one 
thing I forgot to tell you. Mamma says Louis 
is willing we should look on and see him all the 
time he is barbecueing; but we mustn^t bother 
him by asking questions, or he’ll send us off.” 

“ We’ll be careful, we older ones,” said little 
Miss Weezy with a grown-up air; “ but I don’t 
see what we can do with Donny and Julie, they 
talk so much.” 

“ We’ll tell them to keep still,” replied Molly; 
but in her heart of hearts she thought Weezy 
was more of a chatterbox than either of them. 

That afternoon a trench was dug near the 
hotel, and Kirke and Paul knew without asking 
questions that this must be meant for a fire- 
place. 

“ It looks like a grave,” said Weezy. “ It’s 
long enough for two graves.’’ 


THE BARBECUE 


141 

In fact when completed it was fourteen feet 
long, two feet wide and two feet deep. 

Now a fire was built in it of the wood that 
had been brought. It was only Friday after- 
noon, and the feast would not come off till 
Saturday noon; but what Louis wanted was 
an unlimited supply of red hot coals. 

A few of the hotel servants sat around the 
pit till midnight telling stories and singing, 
and now and then throwing in some fresh sticks 
of wood. After midnight other men took their 
places and tended the fire till nearly sunrise. 

By nine o’clock that morning there was an 
enormous bed of glowing coals. Louis had 
risen very early and made broth of the deer’s 
head and neck. This pot of broth he buried in 
the pit, perhaps in order to keep it hot. 

The children looked on, but asked no ques- 
tions. 

Next they saw him wash some old iron pipes 
and engine wheels. “ Them’s my gridirons,” 


142 


BOY DONALD 


he explained, and set them on the coals, where 
they took up exactly one half the room in the 
pit. He had cut the deer into four pieces. 

What a shame ! I thought barbecues were 
roasted whole,’' whispered Weezy to Molly. 

But it seemed that Louis had his own ideas 
of barbecues. He larded and floured and pep- 
pered the four pieces, and tossed them upon the 
greased gridirons. 

The guests came out from the hotel pres- 
ently, and thought him a picturesque figure in 
his white uniform of cap, jacket and apron, as 
he stood preparing the barbecue, surrounded 
by a group of admiring children. 

“ Well, Louis, how do you come on? ” asked 
Mr. Rowe. 

Louis touched his cap with a bow of the 
deepest respect. 

‘‘ Fust rate. Boss,” he replied, with a tri- 
umphant wave of his ladle, which was nothing 


THE BARBECUE 


143 


more nor less than a tin dipper tied to a rake 
handle. Fse cornin’ on fus’ rate.” 

Upon that he dipped the ladle into the pot of 
hot broth and basted the broiling meat. 

“ Mass’ Graffam say this ’ere pit is just 
twicet too long. Guess he’ll find out who 
knows best ! ” 

Mr. Rowe measured it with his eye. “ O, I 
see now why you made it so long, Louis. You 
want two beds of coals.” 

Dat’s so, Boss ! Fust I brile de meat one 
side, den I turns it ober and briles tudder; and 
all de time I’se keepin’ dem coals red and hot 
under de ashes.^’ 

“ Do the children trouble you at all, Louis ? ” 

“Not when dey don’t come too near. I 
don’t want ’em makin’ a dust,” said the cook, 
warning off the little boys with the rake handle. 

The landlord appeared now, laughing and 
rubbing his hands. 


144 


BOY DONALD 


Well, well, ril warrant these little folks 
never saw a barbecue before,’^ said he, patting 
Donald’s sunny head. 

“ How is it, Louis, won’t there be meat 
enough for quite a large party ? I want to in- 
vite the neighbors, and have a regular jollifica- 
tion.” 

“ O ho. Massy, there’ll be deer enough to go 
round. O ho, dere’ll be deer enough,” replied 
Louis, dipping his ladle into the broth and bast- 
ing the meat again. Las’ time I make a 
barbecue ’twas down to Catalina Island, and 
there sich a power o’ folks come to eat it ! Lud- 
a-massy, you couldn’t see de sky round de shore 
fer de folks ! ” 

“ Well, we’ll have as big a crowd this time,” 
said Mr. Graffam. 

The truth was, he had already asked half the 
people at Eagle’s Crest; and now he decided to 
send Jake and Bill to invite all the rest. 

As he was walking off Louis called after him, 


THE BARBECUE 


145 


“ Look a-here, Massa, dinner one o’clock 
sharp. Tell ’em not to forget it. Everybody’ll 
come.” 

“ O, I do like jolly 'casions” said Boy Don- 
ald to Kirke in a joyous whisper. ‘‘ Come, 
Julie!” 

And he and his little chum wandered about, 
hand in hand; now admiring a redhammer, as 
it sipped water from the faucet in the corner, 
now going as near as they dared to the pit 
where Louis reigned supreme with his ladle for 
a sceptre. 

“ Well, here you be again,” said Louis gaz- 
ing down upon his little visitors benevolently. 

Massa Graffam done invit the hull copper- 
ation. Lud-a-massy! Hope dis ’ere deer’s 
legs hole out to go roun’ I ” 

The landlord and two smiling maids came 
out of the back door of the hotel bringing the 
long dining-table, which they placed under the 
spreading black oak. The maids loaded the 


146 


BOY DONALD 


table with plates of buttered rolls, buttered 
johnny-cake, doughnuts and cheese; but the 
little boys observed that there were no knives 
and forks. 

The guests had begun to arrive; and at the 
stroke of one the gong sounded ; and then such 
a rush and scramble for places ! To be sure it 
was not a very large party, — perhaps fifty in 
all. 

Still there were not chairs enough for the 
children, and many of the invited guests were 
expected to sit on logs or on the ground. 

Everybody — even Donald and Julius — was 
given a large plate to hold. Louis, very neat 
and elegant in his white uniform, was master 
of ceremonies. With a deer’s leg in one hand 
and a knife in the other, he went around cut- 
ting off slices to fill the plates. 

In the midst of this performance he suddenly 
dropped both meat and knife, exclaiming, 


THE BARBECUE 


147 


“ Lud-a-massy ! Where dem taters ? I done 
put 'em in de groun’." 

With two strides he reached the pit, raked 
out the potatoes roasted to a turn, and handed 
them about, amid cheers of laughter. 

“ This is really the best venison I ever saw,” 
said Mr. Rowe, nibbling a piece he held in his 
fingers. “ Captain Bradstreet, did you ever in 
all your travels eat any that was finer ? ” 

“ Never, upon my word,” answered the cap- 
tain, who sat next Mr. Rowe at table. 

Louis heard this and was happy. When the 
guests had eaten nearly all they cared for he 
went about to one and another, saying coax- 
ingly, 

“ Now, missus, now massa, try dis 'ere piece. 
Jis hole it in your fingers. 'Twon't stay dere 
long! — Now what I done tell ye;” he added 
with a chuckle as he saw the choice bits dis- 


appear. 


148 


BOY DONALD 


It was a merry party. Everybody had a 
good time, but perhaps Julius and Donald best 
of all. And before the day ended Kirke was 
made happy by something to be told in the next 
chapter. 


CHAPTER XVI 


BOY DONALD AND HIS HERO 

When Mr. Fay returned to Eagle's Crest 
that afternoon the dinner party was over; but 
to the great joy of Louis the hot venison still 
“ held out.’' 

‘‘ Set ri' down to dis 'ere table, Sah," cried 
the beaming cook, beckoning the tardy guest to 
a vacant chair. “ Right smart o' deer meat 
lef in the pit. I glad I done roasted that las' 
basket o' taters." 

“ I hope I shan't eat the whole basketful, 
Louis," said Mr. Fay, accepting the seat with 
a smile. ‘‘ I'm pretty hungry though, I con- 
fess." 

“ We helped to get the trees, papa, so Louis 
could cook the barbecue,” announced little Ju- 
lie, pressing close to his father's side. 

'' Indeed ! Who is 'we*? " 


149 


BOY DONALD 


ISO 

“ O, me and Donny, and all of us. Only we 
couldn't chop down the trees, you know ! " 

“ I dare say not ! " 

‘‘ 'Cause they were so big, Mr. Fay," added 
Boy Donald, joining his twin. “ 'Sides, no- 
body didn't give us any ax." 

Behind Donald came the other members of 
the Rowe family, also the Bradstreets; every- 
one eager to hear all that Mr. Fay could tell 
them about affairs at Casa de Rosas. 

" We^re glad to welcome you back to our 
party, Mr. Fay," was Mrs. Rowe's pleasant 
greeting, while the little group gathered around 
the table. How did you leave Mr. Amabel ? " 

" Better, Mrs. Rowe, much better. I think 
he will soon be as well as ever. 

‘‘ O, goody, goody ! " cried Mr. Amabel's 
friends, Brenda and Weezy, clapping their 
hands. 

" O, goody, goody ! " echoed the little boys, 
clapping their own hands in chorus. 


BOY DONALD AND HIS HERO 


15; 

** Of course you found your furniture much 
damaged,” remarked Mr. Rowe, pushing the 
pickle jar toward Mr. Fay. 

“ On the contrary it was damaged very lit- 
tle.” Here Mr. Fay paused to take a luscious 
morsel of venison from Louis’s extended 
fork. “ And very little of it is missing. 
Paul and Kirke must have worked tremen- 
dously.” 

O, Mr. Fay, you know Mr. Amabel 
helped,” interposed Kirke modestly. ‘‘ He 
helped as long as he could.” 

“ Of course. But he got disabled soon after 
the fire was discovered; he told me that him- 
self,” replied Mr. Fay quietly. 

Then turning to Mrs. Rowe, 

** Mr. Amabel couldn’t say enough in praise 
of your son. Madam, or in praise of Paul Brad- 
street here. He said they were his right-hand 
men, ‘ captains ’ he called them. Everything, 
— barn, bee-hives, furniture, — would have gone 


152 BOY DONALD 

to destruction if it had not been for their cool- 
ness and courage.’’ 

Why, Mr. Fay, this is all new to us. It 
pleases me exceedingly to hear it.” 

And Mrs. Rowe glanced proudly at Kirke 
who stood beside her, too embarrassed to meet 
her eye. 

Paul at his friend’s elbow looked equally 
uncomfortable. A stranger observing the two 
lads at that moment, might easily have sus- 
pected that far from having performed a noble 
action, they had done something of which they 
were ashamed. 

I knew I could trust you with the children, 
I was sure you would keep them always in 
mind,’^ whispered Mrs. Rowe softly in her son’s 
ear. “ But such chivalry and valor as this ! I 
never dreamed you were capable of it at your 
age! Your mother is proud of you, Kirke! ” 

Mr. Fay had laid down his knife and fork. 

“ I can’t be too grateful to you boys,” he 


BOY DONALD AND HIS HERO 


153 


said, addressing Paul and Kirke with a quiver 
in his voice. Mr. Amabel gives you the credit 
of having rescued Julie and Donald from the 
burning house. You never told us how plucky 
you were that night in fighting fire. I call you 
real heroes*' 

“ Kirke was pluckier than I was, Mr. Fay,*' 
interposed Paul generously. “ He saved the 
barn. I shouldn’t have dared swing down from 
the sycamore as he did. If either of us was a 
hero it was Kirke ! " 

“ Kirke is a hero, my Kirke is a hero," sang 
Donald, attracted by the musical word. 

And he ran to throw his arms about his 
brother’s neck. 

“ Kirke was always Donny’s hero,” re- 
marked Molly to Pauline with a laugh. 

“No more than Paul is mine,” retorted 
Pauline, jealous for the honor of her beloved 
twin. He is slow but he’s sure. Three 
cheers for my steady old Paul ! ” 


154 


BOY DONALD 


The cheers, uttered with a gusto, were still 
echoing over Eagle's Crest when Brenda Fay 
amused the company by proposing another 
three for her own brother. Though wee Julie 
had done nothing in the least heroic the coveted 
applause was not withheld. 

As it died away, little Miss Weezy sprang 
nimbly into a chair, waving her pocket hand- 
kerchief and exclaiming. 

Now it’s my brother’s turn! Please shout 
a little louder, all of you ! ” 

And in response to her appeal the willing 
group at her feet gave three rousing cheers and 
a tiger for 

Boy Donald and His Hero ” I 


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life. Her stories are simple and unaffected. ” — Boston Herald, 


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